<h1 id="title">Sonnets</h1>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 1</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>From fairest creatures we desire increase,</li>
    <li>That thereby beauty’s rose might never die,</li>
    <li>But as the riper should by time decease,</li>
    <li>His tender heir might bear his memory:</li>
    <li class="number">But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,</li>
    <li>Feed’st thy light’s flame with self-substantial fuel,</li>
    <li>Making a famine where abundance lies,</li>
    <li>Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.</li>
    <li>Thou that art now the world’s fresh ornament,</li>
    <li class="number">And only herald to the gaudy spring,</li>
    <li>Within thine own bud buriest thy content,</li>
    <li>And, tender churl, mak’st waste in niggarding:</li>
    <li>Pity the world, or else this glutton be,</li>
    <li>To eat the world’s due, by the grave and thee.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 2</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,</li>
    <li>And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field,</li>
    <li>Thy youth’s proud livery, so gaz’d on now,</li>
    <li>Will be a tatter’d weed of small worth held:</li>
    <li class="number">Then being ask’d, where all thy beauty lies,</li>
    <li>Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,</li>
    <li>To say within thine own deep-sunken eyes</li>
    <li>Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.</li>
    <li>How much more praise deserv’d thy beauty’s use,</li>
    <li class="number">If thou couldst answer, “This fair child of mine</li>
    <li>Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,”</li>
    <li>Proving his beauty by succession thine.</li>
    <li>This were to be new made when thou art old,</li>
    <li>And see thy blood warm when thou feel’st it cold.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 3</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest,</li>
    <li>Now is the time that face should form another,</li>
    <li>Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,</li>
    <li>Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.</li>
    <li class="number">For where is she so fair whose unear’d womb</li>
    <li>Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?</li>
    <li>Or who is he so fond will be the tomb,</li>
    <li>Of his self-love, to stop posterity?</li>
    <li>Thou art thy mother’s glass, and she in thee</li>
    <li class="number">Calls back the lovely April of her prime,</li>
    <li>So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,</li>
    <li>Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.</li>
    <li>But if thou live rememb’red not to be,</li>
    <li>Die single, and thine image dies with thee.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 4</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend</li>
    <li>Upon thyself thy beauty’s legacy?</li>
    <li>Nature’s bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,</li>
    <li>And being frank she lends to those are free:</li>
    <li class="number">Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse</li>
    <li>The bounteous largess given thee to give?</li>
    <li>Profitless usurer, why dost thou use</li>
    <li>So great a sum of sums, yet canst not live?</li>
    <li>For having traffic with thyself alone,</li>
    <li class="number">Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive,</li>
    <li>Then how when Nature calls thee to be gone,</li>
    <li>What acceptable audit canst thou leave?</li>
    <li>Thy unus’d beauty must be tomb’d with thee,</li>
    <li>Which used lives th’ executor to be.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 5</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Those hours that with gentle work did frame</li>
    <li>The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell</li>
    <li>Will play the tyrants to the very same,</li>
    <li>And that unfair which fairly doth excel:</li>
    <li class="number">For never-resting time leads summer on</li>
    <li>To hideous winter and confounds him there,</li>
    <li>Sap check’d with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,</li>
    <li>Beauty o’ersnow’d and bareness every where:</li>
    <li>Then were not summer’s distillation left</li>
    <li class="number">A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,</li>
    <li>Beauty’s effect with beauty were bereft,</li>
    <li>Nor it nor no remembrance what it was.</li>
    <li>But flowers distill’d, though they with winter meet,</li>
    <li>Leese but their show, their substance still lives sweet.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 6</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface</li>
    <li>In thee thy summer ere thou be distill’d:</li>
    <li>Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place</li>
    <li>With beauty’s treasure ere it be self-kill’d.</li>
    <li class="number">That use is not forbidden usury,</li>
    <li>Which happies those that pay the willing loan;</li>
    <li>That’s for thyself to breed another thee,</li>
    <li>Or ten times happier be it ten for one;</li>
    <li>Ten times thyself were happier than thou art,</li>
    <li class="number">If ten of thine ten times refigur’d thee,</li>
    <li>Then what could death do if thou shouldst depart,</li>
    <li>Leaving thee living in posterity?</li>
    <li>Be not self-will’d, for thou art much too fair</li>
    <li>To be death’s conquest and make worms thine heir.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 7</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Lo in the orient when the gracious light</li>
    <li>Lifts up his burning head, each under eye</li>
    <li>Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,</li>
    <li>Serving with looks his sacred majesty,</li>
    <li class="number">And having climb’d the steep-up heavenly hill,</li>
    <li>Resembling strong youth in his middle age,</li>
    <li>Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,</li>
    <li>Attending on his golden pilgrimage:</li>
    <li>But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,</li>
    <li class="number">Like feeble age he reeleth from the day,</li>
    <li>The eyes (’fore duteous) now converted are</li>
    <li>From his low tract and look another way:</li>
    <li>So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon,</li>
    <li>Unlook’d on diest unless thou get a son.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 8</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?</li>
    <li>Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.</li>
    <li>Why lov’st thou that which thou receiv’st not gladly,</li>
    <li>Or else receiv’st with pleasure thine annoy?</li>
    <li class="number">If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,</li>
    <li>By unions married, do offend thine ear,</li>
    <li>They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds</li>
    <li>In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.</li>
    <li>Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,</li>
    <li class="number">Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;</li>
    <li>Resembling sire, and child, and happy mother,</li>
    <li>Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing:</li>
    <li>Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one,</li>
    <li>Sings this to thee, “Thou single wilt prove none.”</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 9</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye</li>
    <li>That thou consum’st thyself in single life?</li>
    <li>Ah! If thou issueless shalt hap to die,</li>
    <li>The world will wail thee like a makeless wife,</li>
    <li class="number">The world will be thy widow and still weep,</li>
    <li>That thou no form of thee hast left behind,</li>
    <li>When every private widow well may keep,</li>
    <li>By children’s eyes, her husband’s shape in mind.</li>
    <li>Look what an unthrift in the world doth spend</li>
    <li class="number">Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it,</li>
    <li>But beauty’s waste hath in the world an end,</li>
    <li>And kept unus’d, the user so destroys it:</li>
    <li>No love toward others in that bosom sits</li>
    <li>That on himself such murd’rous shame commits.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 10</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>For shame deny that thou bear’st love to any,</li>
    <li>Who for thyself art so unprovident.</li>
    <li>Grant, if thou wilt, thou art belov’d of many,</li>
    <li>But that thou none lov’st is most evident;</li>
    <li class="number">For thou art so possess’d with murd’rous hate,</li>
    <li>That ’gainst thyself thou stick’st not to conspire,</li>
    <li>Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate</li>
    <li>Which to repair should be thy chief desire.</li>
    <li>O, change thy thought, that I may change my mind!</li>
    <li class="number">Shall hate be fairer lodg’d than gentle love?</li>
    <li>Be as thy presence is gracious and kind,</li>
    <li>Or to thyself at least kind-hearted prove:</li>
    <li>Make thee another self for love of me,</li>
    <li>That beauty still may live in thine or thee.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 11</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st,</li>
    <li>In one of thine, from that which thou departest,</li>
    <li>And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow’st</li>
    <li>Thou mayst call thine, when thou from youth convertest.</li>
    <li class="number">Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase,</li>
    <li>Without this, folly, age, and cold decay.</li>
    <li>If all were minded so, the times should cease,</li>
    <li>And threescore year would make the world away.</li>
    <li>Let those whom nature hath not made for store,</li>
    <li class="number">Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish:</li>
    <li>Look whom she best endow’d she gave the more;</li>
    <li>Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish.</li>
    <li>She carv’d thee for her seal, and meant thereby,</li>
    <li>Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 12</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>When I do count the clock that tells the time,</li>
    <li>And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;</li>
    <li>When I behold the violet past prime,</li>
    <li>And sable curls all silver’d o’er with white;</li>
    <li class="number">When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,</li>
    <li>Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,</li>
    <li>And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves</li>
    <li>Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard:</li>
    <li>Then of thy beauty do I question make</li>
    <li class="number">That thou among the wastes of time must go,</li>
    <li>Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake,</li>
    <li>And die as fast as they see others grow,</li>
    <li>And nothing ’gainst Time’s scythe can make defense</li>
    <li>Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 13</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>O that you were yourself! But, love, you are</li>
    <li>No longer yours than you yourself here live:</li>
    <li>Against this coming end you should prepare,</li>
    <li>And your sweet semblance to some other give.</li>
    <li class="number">So should that beauty which you hold in lease</li>
    <li>Find no determination; then you were</li>
    <li>Yourself again after yourself’s decease,</li>
    <li>When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.</li>
    <li>Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,</li>
    <li class="number">Which husbandry in honor might uphold</li>
    <li>Against the stormy gusts of winter’s day</li>
    <li>And barren rage of death’s eternal cold?</li>
    <li>O, none but unthrifts: dear my love, you know</li>
    <li>You had a father, let your son say so.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 14</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck,</li>
    <li>And yet methinks I have astronomy,</li>
    <li>But not to tell of good or evil luck,</li>
    <li>Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons’ quality;</li>
    <li class="number">Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,</li>
    <li>’Pointing to each his thunder, rain, and wind,</li>
    <li>Or say with princes if it shall go well</li>
    <li>By oft predict that I in heaven find.</li>
    <li>But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,</li>
    <li class="number">And, constant stars, in them I read such art</li>
    <li>As truth and beauty shall together thrive</li>
    <li>If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert;</li>
    <li>Or else of thee this I prognosticate,</li>
    <li>Thy end is truth’s and beauty’s doom and date.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 15</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>When I consider every thing that grows</li>
    <li>Holds in perfection but a little moment;</li>
    <li>That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows</li>
    <li>Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;</li>
    <li class="number">When I perceive that men as plants increase,</li>
    <li>Cheered and check’d even by the self-same sky,</li>
    <li>Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,</li>
    <li>And wear their brave state out of memory:</li>
    <li>Then the conceit of this inconstant stay</li>
    <li class="number">Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,</li>
    <li>Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay</li>
    <li>To change your day of youth to sullied night,</li>
    <li>And all in war with Time for love of you,</li>
    <li>As he takes from you, I ingraft you new.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 16</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>But wherefore do not you a mightier way</li>
    <li>Make war upon this bloody tyrant Time?</li>
    <li>And fortify yourself in your decay</li>
    <li>With means more blessed than my barren rhyme?</li>
    <li class="number">Now stand you on the top of happy hours,</li>
    <li>And many maiden gardens, yet unset,</li>
    <li>With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers,</li>
    <li>Much liker than your painted counterfeit:</li>
    <li>So should the lines of life that life repair</li>
    <li class="number">Which this time’s pencil, or my pupil pen,</li>
    <li>Neither in inward worth nor outward fair</li>
    <li>Can make you live yourself in eyes of men.</li>
    <li>To give away yourself keeps yourself still,</li>
    <li>And you must live drawn by your own sweet skill.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 17</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Who will believe my verse in time to come</li>
    <li>If it were fill’d with your most high deserts?</li>
    <li>Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb</li>
    <li>Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts.</li>
    <li class="number">If I could write the beauty of your eyes,</li>
    <li>And in fresh numbers number all your graces,</li>
    <li>The age to come would say, “This poet lies,</li>
    <li>Such heavenly touches ne’er touch’d earthly faces.”</li>
    <li>So should my papers (yellowed with their age)</li>
    <li class="number">Be scorn’d, like old men of less truth than tongue,</li>
    <li>And your true rights be term’d a poet’s rage,</li>
    <li>And stretched metre of an antique song:</li>
    <li>But were some child of yours alive that time,</li>
    <li>You should live twice, in it and in my rhyme.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 18</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?</li>
    <li>Thou art more lovely and more temperate:</li>
    <li>Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,</li>
    <li>And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;</li>
    <li class="number">Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,</li>
    <li>And often is his gold complexion dimm’d,</li>
    <li>And every fair from fair sometime declines,</li>
    <li>By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d:</li>
    <li>But thy eternal summer shall not fade,</li>
    <li class="number">Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,</li>
    <li>Nor shall Death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,</li>
    <li>When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st.</li>
    <li>So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,</li>
    <li>So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 19</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws,</li>
    <li>And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;</li>
    <li>Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger’s jaws,</li>
    <li>And burn the long-liv’d phoenix in her blood;</li>
    <li class="number">Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet’st,</li>
    <li>And do what e’er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,</li>
    <li>To the wide world and all her fading sweets:</li>
    <li>But I forbid thee one most heinous crime,</li>
    <li>O, carve not with thy hours my love’s fair brow,</li>
    <li class="number">Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;</li>
    <li>Him in thy course untainted do allow,</li>
    <li>For beauty’s pattern to succeeding men.</li>
    <li>Yet do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,</li>
    <li>My love shall in my verse ever live young.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 20</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted</li>
    <li>Hast thou, the master mistress of my passion;</li>
    <li>A woman’s gentle heart but not acquainted</li>
    <li>With shifting change as is false women’s fashion;</li>
    <li class="number">An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,</li>
    <li>Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;</li>
    <li>A man in hue all hues in his controlling,</li>
    <li>Which steals men’s eyes and women’s souls amazeth.</li>
    <li>And for a woman wert thou first created,</li>
    <li class="number">Till Nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting,</li>
    <li>And by addition me of thee defeated,</li>
    <li>By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.</li>
    <li>But since she prick’d thee out for women’s pleasure,</li>
    <li>Mine be thy love, and thy love’s use their treasure.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 21</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>So is it not with me as with that Muse</li>
    <li>Stirr’d by a painted beauty to his verse,</li>
    <li>Who heaven itself for ornament doth use,</li>
    <li>And every fair with his fair doth rehearse,</li>
    <li class="number">Making a couplement of proud compare</li>
    <li>With sun and moon, with earth and sea’s rich gems,</li>
    <li>With April’s first-born flowers, and all things rare</li>
    <li>That heaven’s air in this huge rondure hems.</li>
    <li>O, let me, true in love, but truly write,</li>
    <li class="number">And then believe me, my love is as fair</li>
    <li>As any mother’s child, though not so bright</li>
    <li>As those gold candles fix’d in heaven’s air:</li>
    <li>Let them say more that like of hearsay well,</li>
    <li>I will not praise that purpose not to sell.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 22</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>My glass shall not persuade me I am old,</li>
    <li>So long as youth and thou are of one date,</li>
    <li>But when in thee time’s furrows I behold,</li>
    <li>Then look I death my days should expiate.</li>
    <li class="number">For all that beauty that doth cover thee</li>
    <li>Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,</li>
    <li>Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me:</li>
    <li>How can I then be elder than thou art?</li>
    <li>O, therefore, love, be of thyself so wary</li>
    <li class="number">As I, not for myself, but for thee will,</li>
    <li>Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary</li>
    <li>As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.</li>
    <li>Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain,</li>
    <li>Thou gav’st me thine not to give back again.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 23</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>As an unperfect actor on the stage,</li>
    <li>Who with his fear is put besides his part,</li>
    <li>Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,</li>
    <li>Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart,</li>
    <li class="number">So I, for fear of trust, forget to say</li>
    <li>The perfect ceremony of love’s rite,</li>
    <li>And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,</li>
    <li>O’ercharg’d with burden of mine own love’s might.</li>
    <li>O, let my books be then the eloquence</li>
    <li class="number">And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,</li>
    <li>Who plead for love, and look for recompense,</li>
    <li>More than that tongue that more hath more express’d.</li>
    <li>O, learn to read what silent love hath writ:</li>
    <li>To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 24</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Mine eye hath play’d the painter and hath stell’d</li>
    <li>Thy beauty’s form in table of my heart;</li>
    <li>My body is the frame wherein ’tis held,</li>
    <li>And perspective it is best painter’s art.</li>
    <li class="number">For through the painter must you see his skill,</li>
    <li>To find where your true image pictur’d lies,</li>
    <li>Which in my bosom’s shop is hanging still,</li>
    <li>That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes.</li>
    <li>Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:</li>
    <li class="number">Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me</li>
    <li>Are windows to my breast, wherethrough the sun</li>
    <li>Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee.</li>
    <li>Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,</li>
    <li>They draw but what they see, know not the heart.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 25</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Let those who are in favor with their stars</li>
    <li>Of public honor and proud titles boast,</li>
    <li>Whilst I whom fortune of such triumph bars</li>
    <li>Unlook’d for joy in that I honor most.</li>
    <li class="number">Great princes’ favorites their fair leaves spread</li>
    <li>But as the marigold at the sun’s eye,</li>
    <li>And in themselves their pride lies buried,</li>
    <li>For at a frown they in their glory die.</li>
    <li>The painful warrior famoused for fight,</li>
    <li class="number">After a thousand victories once foil’d,</li>
    <li>Is from the book of honor razed quite,</li>
    <li>And all the rest forgot for which he toil’d.</li>
    <li>Then happy I that love and am beloved</li>
    <li>Where I may not remove, nor be removed.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 26</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage</li>
    <li>Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit,</li>
    <li>To thee I send this written embassage</li>
    <li>To witness duty, not to show my wit;</li>
    <li class="number">Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine</li>
    <li>May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it,</li>
    <li>But that I hope some good conceit of thine</li>
    <li>In thy soul’s thought (all naked) will bestow it;</li>
    <li>Till whatsoever star that guides my moving</li>
    <li class="number">Points on me graciously with fair aspect,</li>
    <li>And puts apparel on my tattered loving,</li>
    <li>To show me worthy of thy sweet respect:</li>
    <li>Then may I dare to boast how I do love thee,</li>
    <li>Till then, not show my head where thou mayst prove me.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 27</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,</li>
    <li>The dear repose for limbs with travel tired,</li>
    <li>But then begins a journey in my head</li>
    <li>To work my mind, when body’s work’s expired;</li>
    <li class="number">For then my thoughts (from far where I abide)</li>
    <li>Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,</li>
    <li>And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,</li>
    <li>Looking on darkness which the blind do see;</li>
    <li>Save that my soul’s imaginary sight</li>
    <li class="number">Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,</li>
    <li>Which like a jewel hung in ghastly night,</li>
    <li>Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new.</li>
    <li>Lo thus by day my limbs, by night my mind,</li>
    <li>For thee, and for myself, no quiet find.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 28</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>How can I then return in happy plight</li>
    <li>That am debarr’d the benefit of rest?</li>
    <li>When day’s oppression is not eas’d by night,</li>
    <li>But day by night and night by day oppress’d;</li>
    <li class="number">And each (though enemies to either’s reign)</li>
    <li>Do in consent shake hands to torture me,</li>
    <li>The one by toil, the other to complain</li>
    <li>How far I toil, still farther off from thee.</li>
    <li>I tell the day, to please him, thou art bright,</li>
    <li class="number">And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven;</li>
    <li>So flatter I the swart-complexion’d night,</li>
    <li>When sparkling stars twire not thou gild’st th’ even:</li>
    <li>But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,</li>
    <li>And night doth nightly make grief’s length seem stronger.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 29</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>When in disgrace with Fortune and men’s eyes</li>
    <li>I all alone beweep my outcast state,</li>
    <li>And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,</li>
    <li>And look upon myself and curse my fate,</li>
    <li class="number">Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,</li>
    <li>Featur’d like him, like him with friends possess’d,</li>
    <li>Desiring this man’s art, and that man’s scope,</li>
    <li>With what I most enjoy contented least;</li>
    <li>Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,</li>
    <li class="number">Haply I think on thee, and then my state</li>
    <li>(Like to the lark at break of day arising</li>
    <li>From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate,</li>
    <li>For thy sweet love rememb’red such wealth brings,</li>
    <li>That then I scorn to change my state with kings.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 30</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>When to the sessions of sweet silent thought</li>
    <li>I summon up remembrance of things past,</li>
    <li>I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,</li>
    <li>And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste;</li>
    <li class="number">Then can I drown an eye (unus’d to flow)</li>
    <li>For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,</li>
    <li>And weep afresh love’s long since cancell’d woe,</li>
    <li>And moan th’ expense of many a vanish’d sight;</li>
    <li>Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,</li>
    <li class="number">And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er</li>
    <li>The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,</li>
    <li>Which I new pay as if not paid before:</li>
    <li>But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,</li>
    <li>All losses are restor’d, and sorrows end.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 31</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts</li>
    <li>Which I by lacking have supposed dead,</li>
    <li>And there reigns love and all love’s loving parts,</li>
    <li>And all those friends which I thought buried.</li>
    <li class="number">How many a holy and obsequious tear</li>
    <li>Hath dear religious love stol’n from mine eye</li>
    <li>As interest of the dead, which now appear</li>
    <li>But things remov’d that hidden in thee lie!</li>
    <li>Thou art the grave where buried love doth live,</li>
    <li class="number">Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone,</li>
    <li>Who all their parts of me to thee did give:</li>
    <li>That due of many now is thine alone.</li>
    <li>Their images I lov’d I view in thee,</li>
    <li>And thou (all they) hast all the all of me.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 32</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>If thou survive my well-contented day,</li>
    <li>When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover,</li>
    <li>And shalt by fortune once more re-survey</li>
    <li>These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover,</li>
    <li class="number">Compare them with the bett’ring of the time,</li>
    <li>And though they be outstripp’d by every pen,</li>
    <li>Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme,</li>
    <li>Exceeded by the height of happier men.</li>
    <li>O then vouchsafe me but this loving thought:</li>
    <li class="number">“Had my friend’s Muse grown with this growing age,</li>
    <li>A dearer birth than this his love had brought</li>
    <li>To march in ranks of better equipage;</li>
    <li>But since he died and poets better prove,</li>
    <li>Theirs for their style I’ll read, his for his love.”</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 33</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Full many a glorious morning have I seen</li>
    <li>Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,</li>
    <li>Kissing with golden face the meadows green,</li>
    <li>Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;</li>
    <li class="number">Anon permit the basest clouds to ride</li>
    <li>With ugly rack on his celestial face,</li>
    <li>And from the forlorn world his visage hide,</li>
    <li>Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:</li>
    <li>Even so my sun one early morn did shine</li>
    <li class="number">With all-triumphant splendor on my brow,</li>
    <li>But out, alack, he was but one hour mine,</li>
    <li>The region cloud hath mask’d him from me now.</li>
    <li>Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth:</li>
    <li>Suns of the world may stain, when heaven’s sun staineth.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 34</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day,</li>
    <li>And make me travel forth without my cloak,</li>
    <li>To let base clouds o’ertake me in my way,</li>
    <li>Hiding thy brav’ry in their rotten smoke?</li>
    <li class="number">’Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,</li>
    <li>To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,</li>
    <li>For no man well of such a salve can speak</li>
    <li>That heals the wound, and cures not the disgrace;</li>
    <li>Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief,</li>
    <li class="number">Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss,</li>
    <li>Th’ offender’s sorrow lends but weak relief</li>
    <li>To him that bears the strong offense’s cross.</li>
    <li>Ah, but those tears are pearl which thy love sheeds,</li>
    <li>And they are rich, and ransom all ill deeds.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 35</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>No more be griev’d at that which thou hast done:</li>
    <li>Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud,</li>
    <li>Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,</li>
    <li>And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.</li>
    <li class="number">All men make faults, and even I in this,</li>
    <li>Authorizing thy trespass with compare,</li>
    <li>Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss,</li>
    <li>Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are;</li>
    <li>For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense—</li>
    <li class="number">Thy adverse party is thy advocate—</li>
    <li>And ’gainst myself a lawful plea commence.</li>
    <li>Such civil war is in my love and hate,</li>
    <li>That I an accessary needs must be</li>
    <li>To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 36</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Let me confess that we two must be twain,</li>
    <li>Although our undivided loves are one:</li>
    <li>So shall those blots that do with me remain,</li>
    <li>Without thy help, by me be borne alone.</li>
    <li class="number">In our two loves there is but one respect,</li>
    <li>Though in our lives a separable spite,</li>
    <li>Which though it alter not love’s sole effect,</li>
    <li>Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love’s delight.</li>
    <li>I may not evermore acknowledge thee,</li>
    <li class="number">Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,</li>
    <li>Nor thou with public kindness honor me,</li>
    <li>Unless thou take that honor from thy name.</li>
    <li>But do not so, I love thee in such sort,</li>
    <li>As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 37</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>As a decrepit father takes delight</li>
    <li>To see his active child do deeds of youth,</li>
    <li>So I, made lame by Fortune’s dearest spite,</li>
    <li>Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.</li>
    <li class="number">For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,</li>
    <li>Or any of these all, or all, or more,</li>
    <li>Entitled in thy parts do crowned sit,</li>
    <li>I make my love ingrafted to this store:</li>
    <li>So then I am not lame, poor, nor despis’d,</li>
    <li class="number">Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give,</li>
    <li>That I in thy abundance am suffic’d,</li>
    <li>And by a part of all thy glory live.</li>
    <li>Look what is best, that best I wish in thee:</li>
    <li>This wish I have, then ten times happy me!</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 38</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>How can my Muse want subject to invent</li>
    <li>While thou dost breathe, that pour’st into my verse</li>
    <li>Thine own sweet argument, too excellent</li>
    <li>For every vulgar paper to rehearse?</li>
    <li class="number">O, give thyself the thanks if aught in me</li>
    <li>Worthy perusal stand against thy sight,</li>
    <li>For who’s so dumb that cannot write to thee,</li>
    <li>When thou thyself dost give invention light?</li>
    <li>Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth</li>
    <li class="number">Than those old nine which rhymers invocate,</li>
    <li>And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth</li>
    <li>Eternal numbers to outlive long date.</li>
    <li>If my slight Muse do please these curious days,</li>
    <li>The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 39</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>O, how thy worth with manners may I sing,</li>
    <li>When thou art all the better part of me?</li>
    <li>What can mine own praise to mine own self bring?</li>
    <li>And what is’t but mine own when I praise thee?</li>
    <li class="number">Even for this, let us divided live,</li>
    <li>And our dear love lose name of single one.</li>
    <li>That by this separation I may give</li>
    <li>That due to thee which thou deserv’st alone.</li>
    <li>O absence, what a torment wouldst thou prove,</li>
    <li class="number">Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave</li>
    <li>To entertain the time with thoughts of love,</li>
    <li>Which time and thoughts so sweetly dost deceive,</li>
    <li>And that thou teachest how to make one twain,</li>
    <li>By praising him here who doth hence remain!</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 40</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all,</li>
    <li>What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?</li>
    <li>No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call,</li>
    <li>All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more.</li>
    <li class="number">Then if for my love thou my love receivest,</li>
    <li>I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest,</li>
    <li>But yet be blam’d, if thou this self deceivest</li>
    <li>By willful taste of what thyself refusest.</li>
    <li>I do forgive thy robb’ry, gentle thief,</li>
    <li class="number">Although thou steal thee all my poverty;</li>
    <li>And yet love knows it is a greater grief</li>
    <li>To bear love’s wrong than hate’s known injury.</li>
    <li>Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,</li>
    <li>Kill me with spites, yet we must not be foes.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 41</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits</li>
    <li>When I am sometime absent from thy heart,</li>
    <li>Thy beauty and thy years full well befits,</li>
    <li>For still temptation follows where thou art.</li>
    <li class="number">Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won,</li>
    <li>Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed;</li>
    <li>And when a woman woos, what woman’s son</li>
    <li>Will sourly leave her till she have prevailed?</li>
    <li>Ay me, but yet thou mightst my seat forbear,</li>
    <li class="number">And chide thy beauty and thy straying youth,</li>
    <li>Who lead thee in their riot even there</li>
    <li>Where thou art forc’d to break a twofold truth:</li>
    <li>Hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee,</li>
    <li>Thine by thy beauty being false to me.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 42</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>That thou hast her, it is not all my grief,</li>
    <li>And yet it may be said I lov’d her dearly;</li>
    <li>That she hath thee is of my wailing chief,</li>
    <li>A loss in love that touches me more nearly.</li>
    <li class="number">Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye:</li>
    <li>Thou dost love her because thou know’st I love her,</li>
    <li>And for my sake even so doth she abuse me,</li>
    <li>Suff’ring my friend for my sake to approve her.</li>
    <li>If I lose thee, my loss is my love’s gain,</li>
    <li class="number">And losing her, my friend hath found that loss;</li>
    <li>Both find each other, and I lose both twain,</li>
    <li>And both for my sake lay on me this cross.</li>
    <li>But here’s the joy, my friend and I are one;</li>
    <li>Sweet flattery! Then she loves but me alone.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 43</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,</li>
    <li>For all the day they view things unrespected,</li>
    <li>But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,</li>
    <li>And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.</li>
    <li class="number">Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,</li>
    <li>How would thy shadow’s form form happy show</li>
    <li>To the clear day with thy much clearer light,</li>
    <li>When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!</li>
    <li>How would (I say) mine eyes be blessed made</li>
    <li class="number">By looking on thee in the living day,</li>
    <li>When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade</li>
    <li>Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!</li>
    <li>All days are nights to see till I see thee,</li>
    <li>And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 44</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,</li>
    <li>Injurious distance should not stop my way,</li>
    <li>For then despite of space I would be brought,</li>
    <li>From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.</li>
    <li class="number">No matter then although my foot did stand</li>
    <li>Upon the farthest earth remov’d from thee,</li>
    <li>For nimble thought can jump both sea and land</li>
    <li>As soon as think the place where he would be.</li>
    <li>But ah, thought kills me that I am not thought,</li>
    <li class="number">To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,</li>
    <li>But that, so much of earth and water wrought,</li>
    <li>I must attend time’s leisure with my moan,</li>
    <li>Receiving nought by elements so slow</li>
    <li>But heavy tears, badges of either’s woe.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 45</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>The other two, slight air and purging fire,</li>
    <li>Are both with thee, where ever I abide;</li>
    <li>The first my thought, the other my desire,</li>
    <li>These present-absent with swift motion slide.</li>
    <li class="number">For when these quicker elements are gone</li>
    <li>In tender embassy of love to thee,</li>
    <li>My life being made of four, with two alone</li>
    <li>Sinks down to death, oppress’d with melancholy;</li>
    <li>Until live’s composition be recured</li>
    <li class="number">By those swift messengers return’d from thee,</li>
    <li>Who even but now come back again, assured</li>
    <li>Of thy fair health, recounting it to me.</li>
    <li>This told, I joy, but then no longer glad,</li>
    <li>I send them back again and straight grow sad.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 46</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,</li>
    <li>How to divide the conquest of thy sight:</li>
    <li>Mine eye my heart thy picture’s sight would bar,</li>
    <li>My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.</li>
    <li class="number">My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie</li>
    <li>(A closet never pierc’d with crystal eyes),</li>
    <li>But the defendant doth that plea deny,</li>
    <li>And says in him thy fair appearance lies.</li>
    <li>To ’cide this title is impanelled</li>
    <li class="number">A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart,</li>
    <li>And by their verdict is determined</li>
    <li>The clear eye’s moiety and the dear heart’s part—</li>
    <li>As thus: mine eye’s due is thy outward part,</li>
    <li>And my heart’s right thy inward love of heart.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 47</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,</li>
    <li>And each doth good turns now unto the other:</li>
    <li>When that mine eye is famish’d for a look,</li>
    <li>Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother,</li>
    <li class="number">With my love’s picture then my eye doth feast,</li>
    <li>And to the painted banquet bids my heart;</li>
    <li>Another time mine eye is my heart’s guest,</li>
    <li>And in his thoughts of love doth share a part.</li>
    <li>So either by thy picture or my love,</li>
    <li class="number">Thyself away are present still with me,</li>
    <li>For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,</li>
    <li>And I am still with them, and they with thee;</li>
    <li>Or if they sleep, thy picture in my sight</li>
    <li>Awakes my heart to heart’s and eye’s delight.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 48</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>How careful was I, when I took my way,</li>
    <li>Each trifle under truest bars to thrust,</li>
    <li>That to my use it might unused stay</li>
    <li>From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust!</li>
    <li class="number">But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,</li>
    <li>Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,</li>
    <li>Thou best of dearest, and mine only care,</li>
    <li>Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.</li>
    <li>Thee have I not lock’d up in any chest,</li>
    <li class="number">Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art,</li>
    <li>Within the gentle closure of my breast,</li>
    <li>From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part,</li>
    <li>And even thence thou wilt be stol’n, I fear,</li>
    <li>For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 49</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Against that time (if ever that time come)</li>
    <li>When I shall see thee frown on my defects,</li>
    <li>When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum,</li>
    <li>Call’d to that audit by advis’d respects;</li>
    <li class="number">Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass,</li>
    <li>And scarcely greet me with that sun, thine eye,</li>
    <li>When love converted from the thing it was</li>
    <li>Shall reasons find of settled gravity:</li>
    <li>Against that time do I ensconce me here</li>
    <li class="number">Within the knowledge of mine own desert,</li>
    <li>And this my hand against myself uprear,</li>
    <li>To guard the lawful reasons on thy part.</li>
    <li>To leave poor me thou hast the strength of laws,</li>
    <li>Since why to love I can allege no cause.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 50</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>How heavy do I journey on the way,</li>
    <li>When what I seek (my weary travel’s end)</li>
    <li>Doth teach that ease and that repose to say,</li>
    <li>“Thus far the miles are measur’d from thy friend.”</li>
    <li class="number">The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,</li>
    <li>Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,</li>
    <li>As if by some instinct the wretch did know</li>
    <li>His rider lov’d not speed, being made from thee.</li>
    <li>The bloody spur cannot provoke him on,</li>
    <li class="number">That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide,</li>
    <li>Which heavily he answers with a groan,</li>
    <li>More sharp to me than spurring to his side,</li>
    <li>For that same groan doth put this in my mind:</li>
    <li>My grief lies onward and my joy behind.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 51</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Thus can my love excuse the slow offense</li>
    <li>Of my dull bearer, when from thee I speed:</li>
    <li>From where thou art, why should I haste me thence?</li>
    <li>Till I return, of posting is no need.</li>
    <li class="number">O, what excuse will my poor beast then find,</li>
    <li>When swift extremity can seem but slow?</li>
    <li>Then should I spur though mounted on the wind,</li>
    <li>In winged speed no motion shall I know.</li>
    <li>Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;</li>
    <li class="number">Therefore desire (of perfect’st love being made)</li>
    <li>Shall neigh (no dull flesh) in his fiery race,</li>
    <li>But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade:</li>
    <li>Since from thee going he went willful-slow,</li>
    <li>Towards thee I’ll run, and give him leave to go.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 52</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>So am I as the rich whose blessed key</li>
    <li>Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,</li>
    <li>The which he will not ev’ry hour survey,</li>
    <li>For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.</li>
    <li class="number">Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,</li>
    <li>Since seldom coming, in the long year set,</li>
    <li>Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,</li>
    <li>Or captain jewels in the carcanet.</li>
    <li>So is the time that keeps you as my chest,</li>
    <li class="number">Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,</li>
    <li>To make some special instant special blest,</li>
    <li>By new unfolding his imprison’d pride.</li>
    <li>Blessed are you whose worthiness gives scope,</li>
    <li>Being had, to triumph, being lack’d, to hope.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 53</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>What is your substance, whereof are you made,</li>
    <li>That millions of strange shadows on you tend?</li>
    <li>Since every one hath, every one, one shade,</li>
    <li>And you, but one, can every shadow lend:</li>
    <li class="number">Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit</li>
    <li>Is poorly imitated after you;</li>
    <li>On Helen’s cheek all art of beauty set,</li>
    <li>And you in Grecian tires are painted new;</li>
    <li>Speak of the spring and foison of the year,</li>
    <li class="number">The one doth shadow of your beauty show,</li>
    <li>The other as your bounty doth appear,</li>
    <li>And you in every blessed shape we know.</li>
    <li>In all external grace you have some part,</li>
    <li>But you like none, none you, for constant heart.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 54</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem</li>
    <li>By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!</li>
    <li>The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem</li>
    <li>For that sweet odor which doth in it live.</li>
    <li class="number">The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye</li>
    <li>As the perfumed tincture of the roses,</li>
    <li>Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly,</li>
    <li>When summer’s breath their masked buds discloses;</li>
    <li>But for their virtue only is their show,</li>
    <li class="number">They live unwoo’d, and unrespected fade,</li>
    <li>Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so,</li>
    <li>Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odors made:</li>
    <li>And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,</li>
    <li>When that shall vade, by verse distills your truth.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 55</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Not marble nor the gilded monuments</li>
    <li>Of princes shall outlive this pow’rful rhyme,</li>
    <li>But you shall shine more bright in these contents</li>
    <li>Than unswept stone, besmear’d with sluttish time.</li>
    <li class="number">When wasteful war shall statues overturn,</li>
    <li>And broils root out the work of masonry,</li>
    <li>Nor Mars his sword nor war’s quick fire shall burn</li>
    <li>The living record of your memory.</li>
    <li>’Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity</li>
    <li class="number">Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room,</li>
    <li>Even in the eyes of all posterity</li>
    <li>That wear this world out to the ending doom.</li>
    <li>So till the judgement that yourself arise,</li>
    <li>You live in this, and dwell in lovers’ eyes.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 56</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Sweet love, renew thy force, be it not said</li>
    <li>Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,</li>
    <li>Which but to-day by feeding is allay’d,</li>
    <li>To-morrow sharp’ned in his former might.</li>
    <li class="number">So, love, be thou: although to-day thou fill</li>
    <li>Thy hungry eyes even till they wink with fullness,</li>
    <li>Tomorrow see again, and do not kill</li>
    <li>The spirit of love with a perpetual dullness:</li>
    <li>Let this sad int’rim like the ocean be</li>
    <li class="number">Which parts the shore, where two contracted new</li>
    <li>Come daily to the banks, that when they see</li>
    <li>Return of love, more blest may be the view;</li>
    <li>As call it winter, which being full of care,</li>
    <li>Makes summer’s welcome thrice more wish’d, more rare.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 57</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Being your slave, what should I do but tend</li>
    <li>Upon the hours and times of your desire?</li>
    <li>I have no precious time at all to spend,</li>
    <li>Nor services to do, till you require.</li>
    <li class="number">Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour,</li>
    <li>Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,</li>
    <li>Nor think the bitterness of absence sour,</li>
    <li>When you have bid your servant once adieu.</li>
    <li>Nor dare I question with my jealous thought</li>
    <li class="number">Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,</li>
    <li>But like a sad slave stay and think of nought</li>
    <li>Save where you are how happy you make those.</li>
    <li>So true a fool is love that in your will</li>
    <li>(Though you do any thing) he thinks no ill.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 58</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>That god forbid that made me first your slave</li>
    <li>I should in thought control your times of pleasure,</li>
    <li>Or at your hand th’ account of hours to crave,</li>
    <li>Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure.</li>
    <li class="number">O, let me suffer (being at your beck)</li>
    <li>Th’ imprison’d absence of your liberty,</li>
    <li>And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each check,</li>
    <li>Without accusing you of injury.</li>
    <li>Be where you list, your charter is so strong,</li>
    <li class="number">That you yourself may privilege your time</li>
    <li>To what you will, to you it doth belong</li>
    <li>Your self to pardon of self-doing crime.</li>
    <li>I am to wait, though waiting so be hell,</li>
    <li>Not blame your pleasure, be it ill or well.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 59</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>If there be nothing new, but that which is</li>
    <li>Hath been before, how are our brains beguil’d,</li>
    <li>Which laboring for invention bear amiss</li>
    <li>The second burden of a former child!</li>
    <li class="number">O that record could with a backward look,</li>
    <li>Even of five hundred courses of the sun,</li>
    <li>Show me your image in some antique book,</li>
    <li>Since mind at first in character was done!</li>
    <li>That I might see what the old world could say</li>
    <li class="number">To this composed wonder of your frame,</li>
    <li>Whether we are mended, or whe’er better they,</li>
    <li>Or whether revolution be the same.</li>
    <li>O, sure I am the wits of former days</li>
    <li>To subjects worse have given admiring praise.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 60</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,</li>
    <li>So do our minutes hasten to their end,</li>
    <li>Each changing place with that which goes before,</li>
    <li>In sequent toil all forwards do contend.</li>
    <li class="number">Nativity, once in the main of light,</li>
    <li>Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown’d,</li>
    <li>Crooked eclipses ’gainst his glory fight,</li>
    <li>And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.</li>
    <li>Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,</li>
    <li class="number">And delves the parallels in beauty’s brow,</li>
    <li>Feeds on the rarities of nature’s truth,</li>
    <li>And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:</li>
    <li>And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,</li>
    <li>Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 61</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Is it thy will thy image should keep open</li>
    <li>My heavy eyelids to the weary night?</li>
    <li>Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,</li>
    <li>While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?</li>
    <li class="number">Is it thy spirit that thou send’st from thee</li>
    <li>So far from home into my deeds to pry,</li>
    <li>To find out shames and idle hours in me,</li>
    <li>The scope and tenure of thy jealousy?</li>
    <li>O no, thy love, though much, is not so great,</li>
    <li class="number">It is my love that keeps mine eye awake,</li>
    <li>Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,</li>
    <li>To play the watchman ever for thy sake.</li>
    <li>For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,</li>
    <li>From me far off, with others all too near.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 62</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye,</li>
    <li>And all my soul, and all my every part;</li>
    <li>And for this sin there is no remedy,</li>
    <li>It is so grounded inward in my heart.</li>
    <li class="number">Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,</li>
    <li>No shape so true, no truth of such account,</li>
    <li>And for myself mine own worth do define,</li>
    <li>As I all other in all worths surmount.</li>
    <li>But when my glass shows me myself indeed,</li>
    <li class="number">Beated and chopp’d with tann’d antiquity,</li>
    <li>Mine own self-love quite contrary I read;</li>
    <li>Self so self-loving were iniquity.</li>
    <li>’Tis thee (myself) that for myself I praise,</li>
    <li>Painting my age with beauty of thy days.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 63</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Against my love shall be as I am now</li>
    <li>With Time’s injurious hand crush’d and o’erworn,</li>
    <li>When hours have drain’d his blood and fill’d his brow</li>
    <li>With lines and wrinkles, when his youthful morn</li>
    <li class="number">Hath travel’d on to age’s steepy night,</li>
    <li>And all those beauties whereof now he’s king</li>
    <li>Are vanishing, or vanish’d out of sight,</li>
    <li>Stealing away the treasure of his spring;</li>
    <li>For such a time do I now fortify</li>
    <li class="number">Against confounding age’s cruel knife,</li>
    <li>That he shall never cut from memory</li>
    <li>My sweet love’s beauty, though my lover’s life.</li>
    <li>His beauty shall in these black lines be seen,</li>
    <li>And they shall live, and he in them still green.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 64</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defaced</li>
    <li>The rich proud cost of outworn buried age;</li>
    <li>When sometime lofty towers I see down razed,</li>
    <li>And brass eternal slave to mortal rage;</li>
    <li class="number">When I have seen the hungry ocean gain</li>
    <li>Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,</li>
    <li>And the firm soil win of the wat’ry main,</li>
    <li>Increasing store with loss, and loss with store;</li>
    <li>When I have seen such interchange of state,</li>
    <li class="number">Or state itself confounded to decay,</li>
    <li>Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate,</li>
    <li>That Time will come and take my love away.</li>
    <li>This thought is as a death, which cannot choose</li>
    <li>But weep to have that which it fears to lose.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 65</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,</li>
    <li>But sad mortality o’ersways their power,</li>
    <li>How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,</li>
    <li>Whose action is no stronger than a flower?</li>
    <li class="number">O how shall summer’s honey breath hold out</li>
    <li>Against the wrackful siege of batt’ring days,</li>
    <li>When rocks impregnable are not so stout,</li>
    <li>Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?</li>
    <li>O fearful meditation! Where, alack,</li>
    <li class="number">Shall Time’s best jewel from Time’s chest lie hid?</li>
    <li>Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?</li>
    <li>Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?</li>
    <li>O none, unless this miracle have might,</li>
    <li>That in black ink my love may still shine bright.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 66</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Tir’d with all these, for restful death I cry:</li>
    <li>As to behold desert a beggar born,</li>
    <li>And needy nothing trimm’d in jollity,</li>
    <li>And purest faith unhappily forsworn,</li>
    <li class="number">And gilded honor shamefully misplac’d,</li>
    <li>And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,</li>
    <li>And right perfection wrongfully disgrac’d,</li>
    <li>And strength by limping sway disabled,</li>
    <li>And art made tongue-tied by authority,</li>
    <li class="number">And folly (doctor-like) controlling skill,</li>
    <li>And simple truth miscall’d simplicity,</li>
    <li>And captive good attending captain ill:</li>
    <li>Tir’d with all these, from these would I be gone,</li>
    <li>Save that to die, I leave my love alone.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 67</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Ah, wherefore with infection should he live,</li>
    <li>And with his presence grace impiety,</li>
    <li>That sin by him advantage should achieve,</li>
    <li>And lace itself with his society?</li>
    <li class="number">Why should false painting imitate his cheek,</li>
    <li>And steal dead seeing of his living hue?</li>
    <li>Why should poor beauty indirectly seek</li>
    <li>Roses of shadow, since his rose is true?</li>
    <li>Why should he live, now Nature bankrupt is,</li>
    <li class="number">Beggar’d of blood to blush through lively veins,</li>
    <li>For she hath no exchequer now but his,</li>
    <li>And proud of many, lives upon his gains?</li>
    <li>O, him she stores, to show what wealth she had</li>
    <li>In days long since, before these last so bad.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 68</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn,</li>
    <li>When beauty liv’d and died as flowers do now,</li>
    <li>Before these bastard signs of fair were born,</li>
    <li>Or durst inhabit on a living brow;</li>
    <li class="number">Before the golden tresses of the dead,</li>
    <li>The right of sepulchres, were shorn away,</li>
    <li>To live a second life on second head;</li>
    <li>Ere beauty’s dead fleece made another gay:</li>
    <li>In him those holy antique hours are seen,</li>
    <li class="number">Without all ornament, itself and true,</li>
    <li>Making no summer of another’s green,</li>
    <li>Robbing no old to dress his beauty new,</li>
    <li>And him as for a map doth Nature store,</li>
    <li>To show false Art what beauty was of yore.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 69</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view</li>
    <li>Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend;</li>
    <li>All tongues (the voice of souls) give thee that due,</li>
    <li>Utt’ring bare truth, even so as foes commend.</li>
    <li class="number">Thy outward thus with outward praise is crown’d,</li>
    <li>But those same tongues that give thee so thine own,</li>
    <li>In other accents do this praise confound</li>
    <li>By seeing farther than the eye hath shown.</li>
    <li>They look into the beauty of thy mind,</li>
    <li class="number">And that in guess they measure by thy deeds,</li>
    <li>Then, churls, their thoughts (although their eyes were kind)</li>
    <li>To thy fair flower add the rank smell of weeds:</li>
    <li>But why thy odor matcheth not thy show,</li>
    <li>The soil is this, that thou dost common grow.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 70</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>That thou are blam’d shall not be thy defect,</li>
    <li>For slander’s mark was ever yet the fair;</li>
    <li>The ornament of beauty is suspect,</li>
    <li>A crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air.</li>
    <li class="number">So thou be good, slander doth but approve</li>
    <li>Thy worth the greater, being woo’d of time,</li>
    <li>For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,</li>
    <li>And thou present’st a pure unstained prime.</li>
    <li>Thou hast pass’d by the ambush of young days,</li>
    <li class="number">Either not assail’d, or victor being charg’d,</li>
    <li>Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise</li>
    <li>To tie up envy, evermore enlarg’d:</li>
    <li>If some suspect of ill mask’d not thy show,</li>
    <li>Then thou alone kingdoms of hearts shouldst owe.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 71</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>No longer mourn for me when I am dead</li>
    <li>Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell</li>
    <li>Give warning to the world that I am fled</li>
    <li>From this vile world with vildest worms to dwell;</li>
    <li class="number">Nay, if you read this line, remember not</li>
    <li>The hand that writ it, for I love you so,</li>
    <li>That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,</li>
    <li>If thinking on me then should make you woe.</li>
    <li>O, if (I say) you look upon this verse,</li>
    <li class="number">When I (perhaps) compounded am with clay,</li>
    <li>Do not so much as my poor name rehearse,</li>
    <li>But let your love even with my life decay;</li>
    <li>Lest the wise world should look into your moan,</li>
    <li>And mock you with me after I am gone.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 72</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>O, lest the world should task you to recite</li>
    <li>What merit liv’d in me that you should love</li>
    <li>After my death, dear love, forget me quite,</li>
    <li>For you in me can nothing worthy prove;</li>
    <li class="number">Unless you would devise some virtuous lie,</li>
    <li>To do more for me than mine own desert,</li>
    <li>And hang more praise upon deceased I</li>
    <li>Than niggard truth would willingly impart:</li>
    <li>O, lest your true love may seem false in this,</li>
    <li class="number">That you for love speak well of me untrue,</li>
    <li>My name be buried where my body is,</li>
    <li>And live no more to shame nor me nor you.</li>
    <li>For I am sham’d by that which I bring forth,</li>
    <li>And so should you, to love things nothing worth.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 73</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>That time of year thou mayst in me behold</li>
    <li>When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang</li>
    <li>Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,</li>
    <li>Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.</li>
    <li class="number">In me thou see’st the twilight of such day</li>
    <li>As after sunset fadeth in the west,</li>
    <li>Which by and by black night doth take away,</li>
    <li>Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.</li>
    <li>In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire</li>
    <li class="number">That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,</li>
    <li>As the death-bed whereon it must expire,</li>
    <li>Consum’d with that which it was nourish’d by.</li>
    <li>This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,</li>
    <li>To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 74</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>But be contented when that fell arrest</li>
    <li>Without all bail shall carry me away,</li>
    <li>My life hath in this line some interest,</li>
    <li>Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.</li>
    <li class="number">When thou reviewest this, thou dost review</li>
    <li>The very part was consecrate to thee:</li>
    <li>The earth can have but earth, which is his due,</li>
    <li>My spirit is thine, the better part of me.</li>
    <li>So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,</li>
    <li class="number">The prey of worms, my body being dead,</li>
    <li>The coward conquest of a wretch’s knife,</li>
    <li>Too base of thee to be remembered.</li>
    <li>The worth of that is that which it contains,</li>
    <li>And that is this, and this with thee remains.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 75</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>So are you to my thoughts as food to life,</li>
    <li>Or as sweet-season’d showers are to the ground;</li>
    <li>And for the peace of you I hold such strife</li>
    <li>As ’twixt a miser and his wealth is found:</li>
    <li class="number">Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon</li>
    <li>Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure;</li>
    <li>Now counting best to be with you alone,</li>
    <li>Then better’d that the world may see my pleasure;</li>
    <li>Sometime all full with feasting on your sight,</li>
    <li class="number">And by and by clean starved for a look;</li>
    <li>Possessing or pursuing no delight</li>
    <li>Save what is had or must from you be took.</li>
    <li>Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day,</li>
    <li>Or gluttoning on all, or all away.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 76</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Why is my verse so barren of new pride?</li>
    <li>So far from variation or quick change?</li>
    <li>Why with the time do I not glance aside</li>
    <li>To new-found methods and to compounds strange?</li>
    <li class="number">Why write I still all one, ever the same,</li>
    <li>And keep invention in a noted weed,</li>
    <li>That every word doth almost tell my name,</li>
    <li>Showing their birth, and where they did proceed?</li>
    <li>O, know, sweet love, I always write of you,</li>
    <li class="number">And you and love are still my argument;</li>
    <li>So all my best is dressing old words new,</li>
    <li>Spending again what is already spent:</li>
    <li>For as the sun is daily new and old,</li>
    <li>So is my love still telling what is told.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 77</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,</li>
    <li>Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste,</li>
    <li>The vacant leaves thy mind’s imprint will bear,</li>
    <li>And of this book this learning mayst thou taste.</li>
    <li class="number">The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show,</li>
    <li>Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;</li>
    <li>Thou by thy dial’s shady stealth mayst know</li>
    <li>Time’s thievish progress to eternity.</li>
    <li>Look what thy memory cannot contain</li>
    <li class="number">Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find</li>
    <li>Those children nurs’d, deliver’d from thy brain,</li>
    <li>To take a new acquaintance of thy mind.</li>
    <li>These offices, so oft as thou wilt look,</li>
    <li>Shall profit thee, and much enrich thy book.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 78</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>So oft have I invok’d thee for my Muse,</li>
    <li>And found such fair assistance in my verse,</li>
    <li>As every alien pen hath got my use,</li>
    <li>And under thee their poesy disperse.</li>
    <li class="number">Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing,</li>
    <li>And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,</li>
    <li>Have added feathers to the learned’s wing,</li>
    <li>And given grace a double majesty.</li>
    <li>Yet be most proud of that which I compile,</li>
    <li class="number">Whose influence is thine, and born of thee:</li>
    <li>In others’ works thou dost but mend the style,</li>
    <li>And arts with thy sweet graces graced be;</li>
    <li>But thou art all my art, and dost advance</li>
    <li>As high as learning my rude ignorance.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 79</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid,</li>
    <li>My verse alone had all thy gentle grace,</li>
    <li>But now my gracious numbers are decay’d,</li>
    <li>And my sick Muse doth give another place.</li>
    <li class="number">I grant, sweet love, thy lovely argument</li>
    <li>Deserves the travail of a worthier pen,</li>
    <li>Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent</li>
    <li>He robs thee of, and pays it thee again.</li>
    <li>He lends thee virtue, and he stole that word</li>
    <li class="number">From thy behavior; beauty doth he give,</li>
    <li>And found it in thy cheek; he can afford</li>
    <li>No praise to thee but what in thee doth live.</li>
    <li>Then thank him not for that which he doth say,</li>
    <li>Since what he owes thee, thou thyself dost pay.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 80</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>O how I faint when I of you do write,</li>
    <li>Knowing a better spirit doth use your name,</li>
    <li>And in the praise thereof spends all his might,</li>
    <li>To make me tongue-tied, speaking of your fame.</li>
    <li class="number">But since your worth (wide as the ocean is)</li>
    <li>The humble as the proudest sail doth bear,</li>
    <li>My saucy bark (inferior far to his)</li>
    <li>On your broad main doth willfully appear.</li>
    <li>Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat,</li>
    <li class="number">Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride,</li>
    <li>Or (being wrack’d) I am a worthless boat,</li>
    <li>He of tall building and of goodly pride.</li>
    <li>Then if he thrive and I be cast away,</li>
    <li>The worst was this: my love was my decay.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 81</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Or I shall live your epitaph to make,</li>
    <li>Or you survive when I in earth am rotten;</li>
    <li>From hence your memory death cannot take,</li>
    <li>Although in me each part will be forgotten.</li>
    <li class="number">Your name from hence immortal life shall have,</li>
    <li>Though I (once gone) to all the world must die;</li>
    <li>The earth can yield me but a common grave,</li>
    <li>When you entombed in men’s eyes shall lie;</li>
    <li>Your monument shall be my gentle verse,</li>
    <li class="number">Which eyes not yet created shall o’er-read,</li>
    <li>And tongues to be your being shall rehearse,</li>
    <li>When all the breathers of this world are dead;</li>
    <li>You still shall live (such virtue hath my pen)</li>
    <li>Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 82</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>I grant thou wert not married to my Muse,</li>
    <li>And therefore mayest without attaint o’erlook</li>
    <li>The dedicated words which writers use</li>
    <li>Of their fair subject, blessing every book.</li>
    <li class="number">Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue,</li>
    <li>Finding thy worth a limit past my praise,</li>
    <li>And therefore art enforc’d to seek anew</li>
    <li>Some fresher stamp of the time-bettering days.</li>
    <li>And do so, love; yet when they have devis’d</li>
    <li class="number">What strained touches rhetoric can lend,</li>
    <li>Thou, truly fair, wert truly sympathiz’d</li>
    <li>In true plain words by thy true-telling friend;</li>
    <li>And their gross painting might be better us’d</li>
    <li>Where cheeks need blood, in thee it is abus’d.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 83</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>I never saw that you did painting need,</li>
    <li>And therefore to your fair no painting set;</li>
    <li>I found (or thought I found) you did exceed</li>
    <li>The barren tender of a poet’s debt;</li>
    <li class="number">And therefore have I slept in your report,</li>
    <li>That you yourself, being extant, well might show</li>
    <li>How far a modern quill doth come too short,</li>
    <li>Speaking of worth, what worth in you doth grow.</li>
    <li>This silence for my sin you did impute,</li>
    <li class="number">Which shall be most my glory being dumb,</li>
    <li>For I impair not beauty being mute,</li>
    <li>When others would give life and bring a tomb.</li>
    <li>There lives more life in one of your fair eyes</li>
    <li>Than both your poets can in praise devise.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 84</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Who is it that says most, which can say more</li>
    <li>Than this rich praise, that you alone are you,</li>
    <li>In whose confine immured is the store</li>
    <li>Which should example where your equal grew?</li>
    <li class="number">Lean penury within that pen doth dwell</li>
    <li>That to his subject lends not some small glory,</li>
    <li>But he that writes of you, if he can tell</li>
    <li>That you are you, so dignifies his story.</li>
    <li>Let him but copy what in you is writ,</li>
    <li class="number">Not making worse what nature made so clear,</li>
    <li>And such a counterpart shall fame his wit,</li>
    <li>Making his style admired every where.</li>
    <li>You to your beauteous blessings add a curse,</li>
    <li>Being fond on praise, which makes your praises worse.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 85</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still,</li>
    <li>While comments of your praise, richly compil’d,</li>
    <li>Reserve their character with golden quill</li>
    <li>And precious phrase by all the Muses fil’d.</li>
    <li class="number">I think good thoughts whilst other write good words,</li>
    <li>And like unlettered clerk still cry “Amen”</li>
    <li>To every hymn that able spirit affords</li>
    <li>In polish’d form of well-refined pen.</li>
    <li>Hearing you prais’d, I say, “’Tis so, ’tis true,”</li>
    <li class="number">And to the most of praise add something more,</li>
    <li>But that is in my thought, whose love to you</li>
    <li>(Though words come hindmost) holds his rank before.</li>
    <li>Then others for the breath of words respect,</li>
    <li>Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 86</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Was it the proud full sail of his great verse,</li>
    <li>Bound for the prize of all-too-precious you,</li>
    <li>That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,</li>
    <li>Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?</li>
    <li class="number">Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write</li>
    <li>Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?</li>
    <li>No, neither he, nor his compeers by night</li>
    <li>Giving him aid, my verse astonished.</li>
    <li>He, nor that affable familiar ghost</li>
    <li class="number">Which nightly gulls him with intelligence,</li>
    <li>As victors of my silence cannot boast;</li>
    <li>I was not sick of any fear from thence:</li>
    <li>But when your countenance fill’d up his line,</li>
    <li>Then lack’d I matter, that enfeebled mine.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 87</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing,</li>
    <li>And like enough thou know’st thy estimate;</li>
    <li>The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing;</li>
    <li>My bonds in thee are all determinate.</li>
    <li class="number">For how do I hold thee but by thy granting,</li>
    <li>And for that riches where is my deserving?</li>
    <li>The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,</li>
    <li>And so my patent back again is swerving.</li>
    <li>Thyself thou gav’st, thy own worth then not knowing,</li>
    <li class="number">Or me, to whom thou gav’st it, else mistaking,</li>
    <li>So thy great gift, upon misprision growing,</li>
    <li>Comes home again, on better judgment making.</li>
    <li>Thus have I had thee as a dream doth flatter:</li>
    <li>In sleep a king, but waking no such matter.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 88</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>When thou shalt be dispos’d to set me light,</li>
    <li>And place my merit in the eye of scorn,</li>
    <li>Upon thy side against myself I’ll fight,</li>
    <li>And prove thee virtuous, though thou art forsworn.</li>
    <li class="number">With mine own weakness being best acquainted,</li>
    <li>Upon thy part I can set down a story</li>
    <li>Of faults conceal’d, wherein I am attainted,</li>
    <li>That thou in losing me shall win much glory.</li>
    <li>And I by this will be a gainer too,</li>
    <li class="number">For bending all my loving thoughts on thee,</li>
    <li>The injuries that to myself I do,</li>
    <li>Doing thee vantage, double-vantage me.</li>
    <li>Such is my love, to thee I so belong,</li>
    <li>That for thy right myself will bear all wrong.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 89</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault,</li>
    <li>And I will comment upon that offense;</li>
    <li>Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt,</li>
    <li>Against thy reasons making no defense.</li>
    <li class="number">Thou canst not, love, disgrace me half so ill,</li>
    <li>To set a form upon desired change,</li>
    <li>As I’ll myself disgrace, knowing thy will:</li>
    <li>I will acquaintance strangle and look strange,</li>
    <li>Be absent from thy walks, and in my tongue</li>
    <li class="number">Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell,</li>
    <li>Lest I (too much profane) should do it wrong,</li>
    <li>And haply of our old acquaintance tell.</li>
    <li>For thee, against myself I’ll vow debate,</li>
    <li>For I must ne’er love him whom thou dost hate.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 90</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now,</li>
    <li>Now while the world is bent my deeds to cross,</li>
    <li>Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,</li>
    <li>And do not drop in for an after-loss.</li>
    <li class="number">Ah, do not, when my heart hath scap’d this sorrow,</li>
    <li>Come in the rearward of a conquer’d woe;</li>
    <li>Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,</li>
    <li>To linger out a purpos’d overthrow.</li>
    <li>If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,</li>
    <li class="number">When other petty griefs have done their spite,</li>
    <li>But in the onset come, so shall I taste</li>
    <li>At first the very worst of fortune’s might;</li>
    <li>And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,</li>
    <li>Compar’d with loss of thee will not seem so.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 91</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,</li>
    <li>Some in their wealth, some in their body’s force,</li>
    <li>Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill,</li>
    <li>Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse;</li>
    <li class="number">And every humor hath his adjunct pleasure,</li>
    <li>Wherein it finds a joy above the rest,</li>
    <li>But these particulars are not my measure,</li>
    <li>All these I better in one general best.</li>
    <li>Thy love is better than high birth to me,</li>
    <li class="number">Richer than wealth, prouder than garments’ cost,</li>
    <li>Of more delight than hawks or horses be;</li>
    <li>And having thee, of all men’s pride I boast:</li>
    <li>Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take</li>
    <li>All this away, and me most wretched make.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 92</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>But do thy worst to steal thyself away,</li>
    <li>For term of life thou art assured mine,</li>
    <li>And life no longer than thy love will stay,</li>
    <li>For it depends upon that love of thine.</li>
    <li class="number">Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs,</li>
    <li>When in the least of them my life hath end;</li>
    <li>I see a better state to me belongs</li>
    <li>Than that which on thy humor doth depend.</li>
    <li>Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind,</li>
    <li class="number">Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie;</li>
    <li>O, what a happy title do I find,</li>
    <li>Happy to have thy love, happy to die!</li>
    <li>But what’s so blessed-fair that fears no blot?</li>
    <li>Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 93</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>So shall I live, supposing thou art true,</li>
    <li>Like a deceived husband, so love’s face</li>
    <li>May still seem love to me, though alter’d new:</li>
    <li>Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place.</li>
    <li class="number">For there can live no hatred in thine eye,</li>
    <li>Therefore in that I cannot know thy change.</li>
    <li>In many’s looks the false heart’s history</li>
    <li>Is writ in moods and frowns and wrinkles strange;</li>
    <li>But heaven in thy creation did decree</li>
    <li class="number">That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell;</li>
    <li>What e’er thy thoughts or thy heart’s workings be,</li>
    <li>Thy looks should nothing thence but sweetness tell.</li>
    <li>How like Eve’s apple doth thy beauty grow,</li>
    <li>If thy sweet virtue answer not thy show!</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 94</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>They that have pow’r to hurt, and will do none,</li>
    <li>That do not do the thing they most do show,</li>
    <li>Who moving others, are themselves as stone,</li>
    <li>Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow,</li>
    <li class="number">They rightly do inherit heaven’s graces,</li>
    <li>And husband nature’s riches from expense;</li>
    <li>They are the lords and owners of their faces,</li>
    <li>Others but stewards of their excellence.</li>
    <li>The summer’s flow’r is to the summer sweet,</li>
    <li class="number">Though to itself it only live and die,</li>
    <li>But if that flow’r with base infection meet,</li>
    <li>The basest weed outbraves his dignity:</li>
    <li>For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;</li>
    <li>Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 95</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame</li>
    <li>Which like a canker in the fragrant rose,</li>
    <li>Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name!</li>
    <li>O, in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose!</li>
    <li class="number">That tongue that tells the story of thy days</li>
    <li>(Making lascivious comments on thy sport)</li>
    <li>Cannot dispraise but in a kind of praise,</li>
    <li>Naming thy name blesses an ill report.</li>
    <li>O, what a mansion have those vices got</li>
    <li class="number">Which for their habitation chose out thee,</li>
    <li>Where beauty’s veil doth cover every blot,</li>
    <li>And all things turns to fair that eyes can see!</li>
    <li>Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege,</li>
    <li>The hardest knife ill us’d doth lose his edge.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 96</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness,</li>
    <li>Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport;</li>
    <li>Both grace and faults are lov’d of more and less:</li>
    <li>Thou mak’st faults graces that to thee resort.</li>
    <li class="number">As on the finger of a throned queen</li>
    <li>The basest jewel will be well esteem’d,</li>
    <li>So are those errors that in thee are seen</li>
    <li>To truths translated, and for true things deem’d.</li>
    <li>How many lambs might the stern wolf betray,</li>
    <li class="number">If like a lamb he could his looks translate!</li>
    <li>How many gazers mightst thou lead away,</li>
    <li>If thou wouldst use the strength of all thy state!</li>
    <li>But do not so, I love thee in such sort,</li>
    <li>As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 97</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>How like a winter hath my absence been</li>
    <li>From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!</li>
    <li>What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!</li>
    <li>What old December’s bareness every where!</li>
    <li class="number">And yet this time remov’d was summer’s time,</li>
    <li>The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,</li>
    <li>Bearing the wanton burden of the prime,</li>
    <li>Like widowed wombs after their lords’ decease:</li>
    <li>Yet this abundant issue seem’d to me</li>
    <li class="number">But hope of orphans and unfathered fruit,</li>
    <li>For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,</li>
    <li>And thou away, the very birds are mute;</li>
    <li>Or if they sing, ’tis with so dull a cheer</li>
    <li>That leaves look pale, dreading the winter’s near.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 98</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>From you have I been absent in the spring,</li>
    <li>When proud-pied April (dress’d in all his trim)</li>
    <li>Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing,</li>
    <li>That heavy Saturn laugh’d and leapt with him.</li>
    <li class="number">Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell</li>
    <li>Of different flowers in odor and in hue,</li>
    <li>Could make me any summer’s story tell,</li>
    <li>Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew;</li>
    <li>Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white,</li>
    <li class="number">Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose,</li>
    <li>They were but sweet, but figures of delight,</li>
    <li>Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.</li>
    <li>Yet seem’d it winter still, and, you away,</li>
    <li>As with your shadow I with these did play.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 99</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>The forward violet thus did I chide:</li>
    <li>Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells,</li>
    <li>If not from my love’s breath? The purple pride</li>
    <li>Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells</li>
    <li class="number">In my love’s veins thou hast too grossly dy’d.</li>
    <li>The lily I condemned for thy hand,</li>
    <li>And buds of marjoram had stol’n thy hair;</li>
    <li>The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,</li>
    <li>One blushing shame, another white despair;</li>
    <li class="number">A third, nor red nor white, had stol’n of both,</li>
    <li>And to his robb’ry had annex’d thy breath,</li>
    <li>But for his theft in pride of all his growth</li>
    <li>A vengeful canker eat him up to death.</li>
    <li>More flowers I noted, yet I none could see</li>
    <li class="number">But sweet or color it had stol’n from thee.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 100</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget’st so long</li>
    <li>To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?</li>
    <li>Spend’st thou thy fury on some worthless song,</li>
    <li>Dark’ning thy pow’r to lend base subjects light?</li>
    <li class="number">Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem</li>
    <li>In gentle numbers time so idly spent;</li>
    <li>Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem,</li>
    <li>And gives thy pen both skill and argument.</li>
    <li>Rise, resty Muse, my love’s sweet face survey,</li>
    <li class="number">If Time have any wrinkle graven there;</li>
    <li>If any, be a satire to decay,</li>
    <li>And make Time’s spoils despised every where.</li>
    <li>Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life,</li>
    <li>So thou prevent’st his scythe and crooked knife.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 101</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends</li>
    <li>For thy neglect of truth in beauty dy’d?</li>
    <li>Both truth and beauty on my love depends;</li>
    <li>So dost thou too, and therein dignified.</li>
    <li class="number">Make answer, Muse, wilt thou not haply say,</li>
    <li>“Truth needs no color with his color fix’d,</li>
    <li>Beauty no pencil, beauty’s truth to lay;</li>
    <li>But best is best, if never intermix’d”?</li>
    <li>Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?</li>
    <li class="number">Excuse not silence so, for’t lies in thee</li>
    <li>To make him much outlive a gilded tomb,</li>
    <li>And to be prais’d of ages yet to be.</li>
    <li>Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee how</li>
    <li>To make him seem long hence, as he shows now.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 102</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>My love is strength’ned, though more weak in seeming,</li>
    <li>I love not less, though less the show appear;</li>
    <li>That love is merchandiz’d whose rich esteeming</li>
    <li>The owner’s tongue doth publish every where.</li>
    <li class="number">Our love was new, and then but in the spring,</li>
    <li>When I was wont to greet it with my lays,</li>
    <li>As Philomel in summer’s front doth sing,</li>
    <li>And stops her pipe in growth of riper days:</li>
    <li>Not that the summer is less pleasant now</li>
    <li class="number">Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,</li>
    <li>But that wild music burdens every bough,</li>
    <li>And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.</li>
    <li>Therefore like her, I sometime hold my tongue,</li>
    <li>Because I would not dull you with my song.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 103</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth,</li>
    <li>That having such a scope to show her pride,</li>
    <li>The argument all bare is of more worth</li>
    <li>Than when it hath my added praise beside.</li>
    <li class="number">O, blame me not if I no more can write!</li>
    <li>Look in your glass, and there appears a face</li>
    <li>That overgoes my blunt invention quite,</li>
    <li>Dulling my lines, and doing me disgrace.</li>
    <li>Were it not sinful then, striving to mend,</li>
    <li class="number">To mar the subject that before was well?</li>
    <li>For to no other pass my verses tend</li>
    <li>Than of your graces and your gifts to tell;</li>
    <li>And more, much more than in my verse can sit,</li>
    <li>Your own glass shows you, when you look in it.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 104</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>To me, fair friend, you never can be old,</li>
    <li>For as you were when first your eye I ey’d,</li>
    <li>Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold</li>
    <li>Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride,</li>
    <li class="number">Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn’d</li>
    <li>In process of the seasons have I seen,</li>
    <li>Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn’d,</li>
    <li>Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.</li>
    <li>Ah, yet doth beauty, like a dial hand,</li>
    <li class="number">Steal from his figure, and no pace perceiv’d,</li>
    <li>So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,</li>
    <li>Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceiv’d;</li>
    <li>For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred:</li>
    <li>Ere you were born was beauty’s summer dead.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 105</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Let not my love be call’d idolatry,</li>
    <li>Nor my beloved as an idol show,</li>
    <li>Since all alike my songs and praises be</li>
    <li>To one, of one, still such, and ever so.</li>
    <li class="number">Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,</li>
    <li>Still constant in a wondrous excellence,</li>
    <li>Therefore my verse, to constancy confin’d,</li>
    <li>One thing expressing, leaves out difference.</li>
    <li>“Fair,” “kind,” and “true” is all my argument,</li>
    <li class="number">“Fair,” “kind,” and “true” varying to other words,</li>
    <li>And in this change is my invention spent,</li>
    <li>Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.</li>
    <li>“Fair,” “kind,” and “true” have often liv’d alone,</li>
    <li>Which three till now never kept seat in one.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 106</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>When in the chronicle of wasted time</li>
    <li>I see descriptions of the fairest wights,</li>
    <li>And beauty making beautiful old rhyme</li>
    <li>In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,</li>
    <li class="number">Then in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best,</li>
    <li>Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,</li>
    <li>I see their antique pen would have express’d</li>
    <li>Even such a beauty as you master now.</li>
    <li>So all their praises are but prophecies</li>
    <li class="number">Of this our time, all you prefiguring,</li>
    <li>And for they look’d but with divining eyes,</li>
    <li>They had not still enough your worth to sing:</li>
    <li>For we which now behold these present days</li>
    <li>Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 107</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul</li>
    <li>Of the wide world, dreaming on things to come,</li>
    <li>Can yet the lease of my true love control,</li>
    <li>Suppos’d as forfeit to a confin’d doom.</li>
    <li class="number">The mortal moon hath her eclipse endur’d,</li>
    <li>And the sad augurs mock their own presage,</li>
    <li>Incertainties now crown themselves assur’d,</li>
    <li>And peace proclaims olives of endless age.</li>
    <li>Now with the drops of this most balmy time</li>
    <li class="number">My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes,</li>
    <li>Since spite of him I’ll live in this poor rhyme,</li>
    <li>While he insults o’er dull and speechless tribes;</li>
    <li>And thou in this shalt find thy monument,</li>
    <li>When tyrants’ crests and tombs of brass are spent.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 108</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>What’s in the brain that ink may character</li>
    <li>Which hath not figur’d to thee my true spirit?</li>
    <li>What’s new to speak, what now to register,</li>
    <li>That may express my love, or thy dear merit?</li>
    <li class="number">Nothing, sweet boy, but yet like prayers divine,</li>
    <li>I must each day say o’er the very same,</li>
    <li>Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,</li>
    <li>Even as when first I hallowed thy fair name.</li>
    <li>So that eternal love in love’s fresh case</li>
    <li class="number">Weighs not the dust and injury of age,</li>
    <li>Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,</li>
    <li>But makes antiquity for aye his page,</li>
    <li>Finding the first conceit of love there bred,</li>
    <li>Where time and outward form would show it dead.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 109</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>O, never say that I was false of heart,</li>
    <li>Though absence seem’d my flame to qualify;</li>
    <li>As easy might I from myself depart</li>
    <li>As from my soul which in thy breast doth lie:</li>
    <li class="number">That is my home of love; if I have rang’d,</li>
    <li>Like him that travels I return again,</li>
    <li>Just to the time, not with the time exchang’d,</li>
    <li>So that myself bring water for my stain.</li>
    <li>Never believe, though in my nature reign’d</li>
    <li class="number">All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,</li>
    <li>That it could so preposterously be stain’d,</li>
    <li>To leave for nothing all thy sum of good;</li>
    <li>For nothing this wide universe I call,</li>
    <li>Save thou, my rose, in it thou art my all.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 110</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Alas, ’tis true, I have gone here and there,</li>
    <li>And made myself a motley to the view,</li>
    <li>Gor’d mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear,</li>
    <li>Made old offenses of affections new;</li>
    <li class="number">Most true it is that I have look’d on truth</li>
    <li>Askance and strangely: but by all above,</li>
    <li>These blenches gave my heart another youth,</li>
    <li>And worse essays prov’d thee my best of love.</li>
    <li>Now all is done, have what shall have no end,</li>
    <li class="number">Mine appetite I never more will grind</li>
    <li>On newer proof, to try an older friend,</li>
    <li>A god in love, to whom I am confin’d.</li>
    <li>Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,</li>
    <li>Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 111</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide,</li>
    <li>The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,</li>
    <li>That did not better for my life provide</li>
    <li>Than public means which public manners breeds.</li>
    <li class="number">Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,</li>
    <li>And almost thence my nature is subdu’d</li>
    <li>To what it works in, like the dyer’s hand.</li>
    <li>Pity me then, and wish I were renew’d,</li>
    <li>Whilst like a willing patient I will drink</li>
    <li class="number">Potions of eisel ’gainst my strong infection,</li>
    <li>No bitterness that I will bitter think,</li>
    <li>Nor double penance, to correct correction.</li>
    <li>Pity me then, dear friend, and I assure ye,</li>
    <li>Even that your pity is enough to cure me.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 112</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Your love and pity doth th’ impression fill</li>
    <li>Which vulgar scandal stamp’d upon my brow,</li>
    <li>For what care I who calls me well or ill,</li>
    <li>So you o’er-green my bad, my good allow?</li>
    <li class="number">You are my all the world, and I must strive</li>
    <li>To know my shames and praises from your tongue;</li>
    <li>None else to me, nor I to none alive,</li>
    <li>That my steel’d sense or changes right or wrong.</li>
    <li>In so profound abysm I throw all care</li>
    <li class="number">Of others’ voices, that my adder’s sense</li>
    <li>To critic and to flatterer stopped are.</li>
    <li>Mark how with my neglect I do dispense:</li>
    <li>You are so strongly in my purpose bred</li>
    <li>That all the world besides methinks are dead.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 113</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind,</li>
    <li>And that which governs me to go about</li>
    <li>Doth part his function, and is partly blind,</li>
    <li>Seems seeing, but effectually is out;</li>
    <li class="number">For it no form delivers to the heart</li>
    <li>Of bird, of flow’r, or shape which it doth latch,</li>
    <li>Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,</li>
    <li>Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch;</li>
    <li>For if it see the rud’st or gentlest sight,</li>
    <li class="number">The most sweet favor or deformed’st creature,</li>
    <li>The mountain or the sea, the day or night,</li>
    <li>The crow or dove, it shapes them to your feature.</li>
    <li>Incapable of more, replete with you,</li>
    <li>My most true mind thus maketh mine untrue.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 114</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Or whether doth my mind being crown’d with you</li>
    <li>Drink up the monarch’s plague, this flattery?</li>
    <li>Or whether shall I say mine eye saith true,</li>
    <li>And that your love taught it this alchemy,</li>
    <li class="number">To make of monsters and things indigest</li>
    <li>Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble,</li>
    <li>Creating every bad a perfect best</li>
    <li>As fast as objects to his beams assemble?</li>
    <li>O, ’tis the first, ’tis flatt’ry in my seeing,</li>
    <li class="number">And my great mind most kingly drinks it up;</li>
    <li>Mine eye well knows what with his gust is ’greeing,</li>
    <li>And to his palate doth prepare the cup.</li>
    <li>If it be poison’d, ’tis the lesser sin</li>
    <li>That mine eye loves it and doth first begin.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 115</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Those lines that I before have writ do lie,</li>
    <li>Even those that said I could not love you dearer,</li>
    <li>Yet then my judgment knew no reason why</li>
    <li>My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer.</li>
    <li class="number">But reckoning Time, whose million’d accidents</li>
    <li>Creep in ’twixt vows, and change decrees of kings,</li>
    <li>Tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharp’st intents,</li>
    <li>Divert strong minds to th’ course of alt’ring things:</li>
    <li>Alas, why, fearing of Time’s tyranny,</li>
    <li class="number">Might I not then say, “Now I love you best,”</li>
    <li>When I was certain o’er incertainty,</li>
    <li>Crowning the present, doubting of the rest?</li>
    <li>Love is a babe, then might I not say so,</li>
    <li>To give full growth to that which still doth grow.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 116</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Let me not to the marriage of true minds</li>
    <li>Admit impediments; love is not love</li>
    <li>Which alters when it alteration finds,</li>
    <li>Or bends with the remover to remove.</li>
    <li class="number">O no, it is an ever-fixed mark</li>
    <li>That looks on tempests and is never shaken;</li>
    <li>It is the star to every wand’ring bark,</li>
    <li>Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.</li>
    <li>Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks</li>
    <li class="number">Within his bending sickle’s compass come,</li>
    <li>Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,</li>
    <li>But bears it out even to the edge of doom.</li>
    <li>If this be error and upon me proved,</li>
    <li>I never writ, nor no man ever loved.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 117</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all</li>
    <li>Wherein I should your great deserts repay,</li>
    <li>Forgot upon your dearest love to call,</li>
    <li>Whereto all bonds do tie me day by day;</li>
    <li class="number">That I have frequent been with unknown minds,</li>
    <li>And given to time your own dear-purchas’d right;</li>
    <li>That I have hoisted sail to all the winds</li>
    <li>Which should transport me farthest from your sight.</li>
    <li>Book both my willfulness and errors down,</li>
    <li class="number">And on just proof surmise accumulate;</li>
    <li>Bring me within the level of your frown,</li>
    <li>But shoot not at me in your wakened hate:</li>
    <li>Since my appeal says I did strive to prove</li>
    <li>The constancy and virtue of your love.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 118</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Like as to make our appetites more keen,</li>
    <li>With eager compounds we our palate urge,</li>
    <li>As to prevent our maladies unseen,</li>
    <li>We sicken to shun sickness when we purge;</li>
    <li class="number">Even so being full of your ne’er-cloying sweetness,</li>
    <li>To bitter sauces did I frame my feeding,</li>
    <li>And sick of welfare, found a kind of meetness</li>
    <li>To be diseas’d ere that there was true needing.</li>
    <li>Thus policy in love, t’ anticipate</li>
    <li class="number">The ills that were not, grew to faults assured,</li>
    <li>And brought to medicine a healthful state</li>
    <li>Which, rank of goodness, would by ill be cured.</li>
    <li>But thence I learn, and find the lesson true,</li>
    <li>Drugs poison him that so fell sick of you.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 119</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>What potions have I drunk of Siren tears</li>
    <li>Distill’d from limbecks foul as hell within,</li>
    <li>Applying fears to hopes, and hopes to fears,</li>
    <li>Still losing when I saw myself to win!</li>
    <li class="number">What wretched errors hath my heart committed,</li>
    <li>Whilst it hath thought itself so blessed never!</li>
    <li>How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fitted</li>
    <li>In the distraction of this madding fever!</li>
    <li>O benefit of ill, now I find true</li>
    <li class="number">That better is by evil still made better,</li>
    <li>And ruin’d love when it is built anew</li>
    <li>Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater.</li>
    <li>So I return rebuk’d to my content,</li>
    <li>And gain by ills thrice more than I have spent.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 120</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>That you were once unkind befriends me now,</li>
    <li>And for that sorrow which I then did feel</li>
    <li>Needs must I under my transgression bow,</li>
    <li>Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel.</li>
    <li class="number">For if you were by my unkindness shaken</li>
    <li>As I by yours, y’ have pass’d a hell of time,</li>
    <li>And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken</li>
    <li>To weigh how once I suffered in your crime.</li>
    <li>O that our night of woe might have rememb’red</li>
    <li class="number">My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits,</li>
    <li>And soon to you, as you to me then, tend’red</li>
    <li>The humble salve which wounded bosoms fits!</li>
    <li>But that your trespass now becomes a fee,</li>
    <li>Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 121</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>’Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed,</li>
    <li>When not to be receives reproach of being,</li>
    <li>And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed</li>
    <li>Not by our feeling, but by others’ seeing.</li>
    <li class="number">For why should others’ false adulterate eyes</li>
    <li>Give salutation to my sportive blood?</li>
    <li>Or on my frailties why are frailer spies,</li>
    <li>Which in their wills count bad what I think good?</li>
    <li>No, I am that I am, and they that level</li>
    <li class="number">At my abuses reckon up their own;</li>
    <li>I may be straight though they themselves be bevel;</li>
    <li>By their rank thoughts my deeds must not be shown,</li>
    <li>Unless this general evil they maintain:</li>
    <li>All men are bad and in their badness reign.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 122</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain</li>
    <li>Full character’d with lasting memory,</li>
    <li>Which shall above that idle rank remain</li>
    <li>Beyond all date, even to eternity;</li>
    <li class="number">Or at the least, so long as brain and heart</li>
    <li>Have faculty by nature to subsist,</li>
    <li>Till each to raz’d oblivion yield his part</li>
    <li>Of thee, thy record never can be miss’d.</li>
    <li>That poor retention could not so much hold,</li>
    <li class="number">Nor need I tallies thy dear love to score;</li>
    <li>Therefore to give them from me was I bold,</li>
    <li>To trust those tables that receive thee more:</li>
    <li>To keep an adjunct to remember thee</li>
    <li>Were to import forgetfulness in me.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 123</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>No! Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change:</li>
    <li>Thy pyramids built up with newer might</li>
    <li>To me are nothing novel, nothing strange;</li>
    <li>They are but dressings of a former sight.</li>
    <li class="number">Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire</li>
    <li>What thou dost foist upon us that is old,</li>
    <li>And rather make them born to our desire</li>
    <li>Than think that we before have heard them told.</li>
    <li>Thy registers and thee I both defy,</li>
    <li class="number">Not wond’ring at the present, nor the past,</li>
    <li>For thy records and what we see doth lie,</li>
    <li>Made more or less by thy continual haste.</li>
    <li>This I do vow and this shall ever be,</li>
    <li>I will be true despite thy scythe and thee.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 124</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>If my dear love were but the child of state,</li>
    <li>It might for Fortune’s bastard be unfather’d,</li>
    <li>As subject to Time’s love, or to Time’s hate,</li>
    <li>Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gather’d.</li>
    <li class="number">No, it was builded far from accident;</li>
    <li>It suffers not in smiling pomp, nor falls</li>
    <li>Under the blow of thralled discontent,</li>
    <li>Whereto th’ inviting time our fashion calls;</li>
    <li>It fears not policy, that heretic,</li>
    <li class="number">Which works on leases of short-numb’red hours,</li>
    <li>But all alone stands hugely politic,</li>
    <li>That it nor grows with heat, nor drowns with show’rs.</li>
    <li>To this I witness call the fools of Time,</li>
    <li>Which die for goodness, who have liv’d for crime.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 125</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy,</li>
    <li>With my extern the outward honoring,</li>
    <li>Or laid great bases for eternity,</li>
    <li>Which proves more short than waste or ruining?</li>
    <li class="number">Have I not seen dwellers on form and favor</li>
    <li>Lose all, and more, by paying too much rent,</li>
    <li>For compound sweet forgoing simple savor,</li>
    <li>Pitiful thrivers, in their gazing spent?</li>
    <li>No, let me be obsequious in thy heart,</li>
    <li class="number">And take thou my oblation, poor but free,</li>
    <li>Which is not mix’d with seconds, knows no art,</li>
    <li>But mutual render, only me for thee.</li>
    <li>Hence, thou suborn’d informer, a true soul</li>
    <li>When most impeach’d stands least in thy control.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 126</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power</li>
    <li>Dost hold Time’s fickle glass, his sickle, hour;</li>
    <li>Who hast by waning grown, and therein show’st</li>
    <li>Thy lovers withering as thy sweet self grow’st;</li>
    <li class="number">If Nature (sovereign mistress over wrack)</li>
    <li>As thou goest onwards still will pluck thee back,</li>
    <li>She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill</li>
    <li>May Time disgrace and wretched minutes kill.</li>
    <li>Yet fear her, O thou minion of her pleasure,</li>
    <li class="number">She may detain, but not still keep, her treasure!</li>
    <li>Her audit (though delay’d) answer’d must be,</li>
    <li>And her quietus is to render thee.</li>
    <li>(. . . . . . . . . .)</li>
    <li>(. . . . . . . . . .)</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 127</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>In the old age black was not counted fair,</li>
    <li>Or if it were it bore not beauty’s name;</li>
    <li>But now is black beauty’s successive heir,</li>
    <li>And beauty slander’d with a bastard shame,</li>
    <li class="number">For since each hand hath put on nature’s power,</li>
    <li>Fairing the foul with art’s false borrow’d face,</li>
    <li>Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bow’r,</li>
    <li>But is profan’d, if not lives in disgrace.</li>
    <li>Therefore my mistress’ eyes are raven black,</li>
    <li class="number">Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem</li>
    <li>At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack,</li>
    <li>Sland’ring creation with a false esteem:</li>
    <li>Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe,</li>
    <li>That every tongue says beauty should look so.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 128</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>How oft when thou, my music, music play’st</li>
    <li>Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds</li>
    <li>With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway’st</li>
    <li>The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,</li>
    <li class="number">Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap</li>
    <li>To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,</li>
    <li>Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,</li>
    <li>At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand.</li>
    <li>To be so tickled they would change their state</li>
    <li class="number">And situation with those dancing chips,</li>
    <li>O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,</li>
    <li>Making dead wood more blest than living lips:</li>
    <li>Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,</li>
    <li>Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 129</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame</li>
    <li>Is lust in action, and till action, lust</li>
    <li>Is perjur’d, murd’rous, bloody, full of blame,</li>
    <li>Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,</li>
    <li class="number">Enjoy’d no sooner but despised straight,</li>
    <li>Past reason hunted, and no sooner had,</li>
    <li>Past reason hated as a swallowed bait</li>
    <li>On purpose laid to make the taker mad:</li>
    <li>Mad in pursuit and in possession so,</li>
    <li class="number">Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme,</li>
    <li>A bliss in proof, and prov’d, a very woe,</li>
    <li>Before, a joy propos’d, behind, a dream.</li>
    <li>All this the world well knows, yet none knows well</li>
    <li>To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 130</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;</li>
    <li>Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;</li>
    <li>If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;</li>
    <li>If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.</li>
    <li class="number">I have seen roses damask’d, red and white,</li>
    <li>But no such roses see I in her cheeks,</li>
    <li>And in some perfumes is there more delight</li>
    <li>Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.</li>
    <li>I love to hear her speak, yet well I know</li>
    <li class="number">That music hath a far more pleasing sound;</li>
    <li>I grant I never saw a goddess go,</li>
    <li>My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.</li>
    <li>And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare</li>
    <li>As any she belied with false compare.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 131</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art,</li>
    <li>As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;</li>
    <li>For well thou know’st to my dear doting heart</li>
    <li>Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.</li>
    <li class="number">Yet in good faith some say that thee behold,</li>
    <li>Thy face hath not the power to make love groan;</li>
    <li>To say they err I dare not be so bold,</li>
    <li>Although I swear it to myself alone.</li>
    <li>And to be sure that is not false I swear,</li>
    <li class="number">A thousand groans, but thinking on thy face,</li>
    <li>One on another’s neck, do witness bear</li>
    <li>Thy black is fairest in my judgment’s place.</li>
    <li>In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds,</li>
    <li>And thence this slander as I think proceeds.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 132</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Thine eyes I love, and they as pitying me,</li>
    <li>Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,</li>
    <li>Have put on black, and loving mourners be,</li>
    <li>Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.</li>
    <li class="number">And truly not the morning sun of heaven</li>
    <li>Better becomes the grey cheeks of th’ east,</li>
    <li>Nor that full star that ushers in the even</li>
    <li>Doth half that glory to the sober west,</li>
    <li>As those two mourning eyes become thy face.</li>
    <li class="number">O, let it then as well beseem thy heart</li>
    <li>To mourn for me, since mourning doth thee grace,</li>
    <li>And suit thy pity like in every part.</li>
    <li>Then will I swear beauty herself is black,</li>
    <li>And all they foul that thy complexion lack.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 133</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan</li>
    <li>For that deep wound it gives my friend and me;</li>
    <li>Is’t not enough to torture me alone,</li>
    <li>But slave to slavery my sweet’st friend must be?</li>
    <li class="number">Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,</li>
    <li>And my next self thou harder hast engrossed:</li>
    <li>Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken,</li>
    <li>A torment thrice threefold thus to be crossed.</li>
    <li>Prison my heart in thy steel bosom’s ward,</li>
    <li class="number">But then my friend’s heart let my poor heart bail;</li>
    <li>Whoe’er keeps me, let my heart be his guard,</li>
    <li>Thou canst not then use rigor in my jail:</li>
    <li>And yet thou wilt, for I being pent in thee,</li>
    <li>Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 134</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>So now I have confess’d that he is thine,</li>
    <li>And I myself am mortgag’d to thy will,</li>
    <li>Myself I’ll forfeit, so that other mine</li>
    <li>Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still:</li>
    <li class="number">But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free,</li>
    <li>For thou art covetous, and he is kind;</li>
    <li>He learn’d but surety-like to write for me</li>
    <li>Under that bond that him as fast doth bind.</li>
    <li>The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take,</li>
    <li class="number">Thou usurer, that put’st forth all to use,</li>
    <li>And sue a friend came debtor for my sake,</li>
    <li>So him I lose through my unkind abuse.</li>
    <li>Him have I lost, thou hast both him and me,</li>
    <li>He pays the whole, and yet am I not free.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 135</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will,</li>
    <li>And Will to boot, and Will in overplus;</li>
    <li>More than enough am I that vex thee still,</li>
    <li>To thy sweet will making addition thus.</li>
    <li class="number">Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious,</li>
    <li>Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine?</li>
    <li>Shall will in others seem right gracious,</li>
    <li>And in my will no fair acceptance shine?</li>
    <li>The sea, all water, yet receives rain still,</li>
    <li class="number">And in abundance addeth to his store,</li>
    <li>So thou being rich in Will add to thy Will</li>
    <li>One will of mine to make thy large Will more.</li>
    <li>Let no unkind, no fair beseechers kill;</li>
    <li>Think all but one, and me in that one Will.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 136</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>If thy soul check thee that I come so near,</li>
    <li>Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy Will,</li>
    <li>And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there;</li>
    <li>Thus far for love my love-suit, sweet, fulfill.</li>
    <li class="number">Will will fulfill the treasure of thy love,</li>
    <li>Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one.</li>
    <li>In things of great receipt with ease we prove</li>
    <li>Among a number one is reckon’d none:</li>
    <li>Then in the number let me pass untold,</li>
    <li class="number">Though in thy store’s account I one must be,</li>
    <li>For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold</li>
    <li>That nothing me, a something sweet to thee.</li>
    <li>Make but my name thy love, and love that still,</li>
    <li>And then thou lovest me, for my name is Will.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 137</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes,</li>
    <li>That they behold and see not what they see?</li>
    <li>They know what beauty is, see where it lies,</li>
    <li>Yet what the best is take the worst to be.</li>
    <li class="number">If eyes, corrupt by over-partial looks,</li>
    <li>Be anchor’d in the bay where all men ride,</li>
    <li>Why of eyes’ falsehood hast thou forged hooks,</li>
    <li>Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied?</li>
    <li>Why should my heart think that a several plot,</li>
    <li class="number">Which my heart knows the wide world’s common place?</li>
    <li>Or mine eyes seeing this, say this is not,</li>
    <li>To put fair truth upon so foul a face?</li>
    <li>In things right true my heart and eyes have erred,</li>
    <li>And to this false plague are they now transferred.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 138</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>When my love swears that she is made of truth,</li>
    <li>I do believe her, though I know she lies,</li>
    <li>That she might think me some untutor’d youth,</li>
    <li>Unlearned in the world’s false subtilties.</li>
    <li class="number">Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,</li>
    <li>Although she knows my days are past the best,</li>
    <li>Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue;</li>
    <li>On both sides thus is simple truth suppress’d.</li>
    <li>But wherefore says she not she is unjust?</li>
    <li class="number">And wherefore say not I that I am old?</li>
    <li>O, love’s best habit is in seeming trust,</li>
    <li>And age in love loves not t’ have years told.</li>
    <li>Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,</li>
    <li>And in our faults by lies we flattered be.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 139</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>O, call not me to justify the wrong</li>
    <li>That thy unkindness lays upon my heart,</li>
    <li>Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue,</li>
    <li>Use power with power, and slay me not by art.</li>
    <li class="number">Tell me thou lov’st elsewhere, but in my sight,</li>
    <li>Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside;</li>
    <li>What need’st thou wound with cunning when thy might</li>
    <li>Is more than my o’erpress’d defense can bide?</li>
    <li>Let me excuse thee: ah, my love well knows</li>
    <li class="number">Her pretty looks have been mine enemies,</li>
    <li>And therefore from my face she turns my foes,</li>
    <li>That they elsewhere might dart their injuries:</li>
    <li>Yet do not so, but since I am near slain,</li>
    <li>Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 140</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press</li>
    <li>My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain,</li>
    <li>Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express</li>
    <li>The manner of my pity-wanting pain.</li>
    <li class="number">If I might teach thee wit, better it were,</li>
    <li>Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so,</li>
    <li>As testy sick men, when their deaths be near,</li>
    <li>No news but health from their physicians know;</li>
    <li>For if I should despair, I should grow mad,</li>
    <li class="number">And in my madness might speak ill of thee;</li>
    <li>Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,</li>
    <li>Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be.</li>
    <li>That I may not be so, nor thou belied,</li>
    <li>Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 141</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,</li>
    <li>For they in thee a thousand errors note,</li>
    <li>But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise,</li>
    <li>Who in despite of view is pleas’d to dote;</li>
    <li class="number">Nor are mine ears with thy tongue’s tune delighted,</li>
    <li>Nor tender feeling to base touches prone,</li>
    <li>Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited</li>
    <li>To any sensual feast with thee alone;</li>
    <li>But my five wits nor my five senses can</li>
    <li class="number">Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,</li>
    <li>Who leaves unsway’d the likeness of a man,</li>
    <li>Thy proud heart’s slave and vassal wretch to be:</li>
    <li>Only my plague thus far I count my gain,</li>
    <li>That she that makes me sin awards me pain.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 142</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,</li>
    <li>Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving:</li>
    <li>O, but with mine compare thou thine own state,</li>
    <li>And thou shalt find it merits not reproving,</li>
    <li class="number">Or if it do, not from those lips of thine,</li>
    <li>That have profan’d their scarlet ornaments,</li>
    <li>And seal’d false bonds of love as oft as mine,</li>
    <li>Robb’d others’ beds’ revenues of their rents.</li>
    <li>Be it lawful I love thee as thou lov’st those</li>
    <li class="number">Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee.</li>
    <li>Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows,</li>
    <li>Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.</li>
    <li>If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,</li>
    <li>By self-example mayst thou be denied.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 143</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Lo as a careful huswife runs to catch</li>
    <li>One of her feathered creatures broke away,</li>
    <li>Sets down her babe and makes all swift dispatch</li>
    <li>In pursuit of the thing she would have stay;</li>
    <li class="number">Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase,</li>
    <li>Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent</li>
    <li>To follow that which flies before her face,</li>
    <li>Not prizing her poor infant’s discontent;</li>
    <li>So run’st thou after that which flies from thee,</li>
    <li class="number">Whilst I, thy babe, chase thee afar behind,</li>
    <li>But if thou catch thy hope, turn back to me,</li>
    <li>And play the mother’s part, kiss me, be kind.</li>
    <li>So will I pray that thou mayst have thy Will,</li>
    <li>If thou turn back and my loud crying still.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 144</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Two loves I have of comfort and despair,</li>
    <li>Which like two spirits do suggest me still:</li>
    <li>The better angel is a man right fair,</li>
    <li>The worser spirit a woman color’d ill.</li>
    <li class="number">To win me soon to hell, my female evil</li>
    <li>Tempteth my better angel from my side,</li>
    <li>And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,</li>
    <li>Wooing his purity with her foul pride.</li>
    <li>And whether that my angel be turn’d fiend</li>
    <li class="number">Suspect I may, yet not directly tell,</li>
    <li>But being both from me, both to each friend,</li>
    <li>I guess one angel in another’s hell.</li>
    <li>Yet this shall I ne’er know, but live in doubt,</li>
    <li>Till my bad angel fire my good one out.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 145</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Those lips that Love’s own hand did make</li>
    <li>Breath’d forth the sound that said “I hate”</li>
    <li>To me that languish’d for her sake;</li>
    <li>But when she saw my woeful state,</li>
    <li class="number">Straight in her heart did mercy come,</li>
    <li>Chiding that tongue that, ever sweet,</li>
    <li>Was us’d in giving gentle doom,</li>
    <li>And taught it thus anew to greet:</li>
    <li>“I hate” she alter’d with an end</li>
    <li class="number">That follow’d it as gentle day</li>
    <li>Doth follow night, who like a fiend</li>
    <li>From heaven to hell is flown away:</li>
    <li>“I hate” from “hate” away she threw,</li>
    <li>And sav’d my life, saying “not you.”</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 146</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Poor soul, the center of my sinful earth,</li>
    <li>Feeding these rebel pow’rs that thee array,</li>
    <li>Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,</li>
    <li>Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?</li>
    <li class="number">Why so large cost, having so short a lease,</li>
    <li>Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?</li>
    <li>Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,</li>
    <li>Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body’s end?</li>
    <li>Then, soul, live thou upon thy servant’s loss,</li>
    <li class="number">And let that pine to aggravate thy store;</li>
    <li>Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;</li>
    <li>Within be fed, without be rich no more:</li>
    <li>So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,</li>
    <li>And Death once dead, there’s no more dying then.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 147</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>My love is as a fever, longing still</li>
    <li>For that which longer nurseth the disease,</li>
    <li>Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,</li>
    <li>Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please.</li>
    <li class="number">My reason, the physician to my love,</li>
    <li>Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,</li>
    <li>Hath left me, and I desperate now approve</li>
    <li>Desire is death, which physic did except.</li>
    <li>Past cure I am, now reason is past care,</li>
    <li class="number">And frantic mad with evermore unrest;</li>
    <li>My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are,</li>
    <li>At random from the truth vainly express’d;</li>
    <li>For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,</li>
    <li>Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 148</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>O me! What eyes hath Love put in my head,</li>
    <li>Which have no correspondence with true sight,</li>
    <li>Or if they have, where is my judgment fled,</li>
    <li>That censures falsely what they see aright?</li>
    <li class="number">If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,</li>
    <li>What means the world to say it is not so?</li>
    <li>If it be not, then love doth well denote</li>
    <li>Love’s eye is not so true as all men’s: no,</li>
    <li>How can it? O, how can Love’s eye be true,</li>
    <li class="number">That is so vex’d with watching and with tears?</li>
    <li>No marvel then though I mistake my view,</li>
    <li>The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.</li>
    <li>O cunning Love, with tears thou keep’st me blind,</li>
    <li>Lest eyes well seeing thy foul faults should find.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 149</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Canst thou, O cruel, say I love thee not,</li>
    <li>When I against myself with thee partake?</li>
    <li>Do I not think on thee when I forgot</li>
    <li>Am of myself, all tyrant for thy sake?</li>
    <li class="number">Who hateth thee that I do call my friend?</li>
    <li>On whom frown’st thou that I do fawn upon?</li>
    <li>Nay, if thou low’r’st on me, do I not spend</li>
    <li>Revenge upon myself with present moan?</li>
    <li>What merit do I in myself respect,</li>
    <li class="number">That is so proud thy service to despise,</li>
    <li>When all my best doth worship thy defect,</li>
    <li>Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?</li>
    <li>But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind:</li>
    <li>Those that can see thou lov’st, and I am blind.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 150</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>O, from what pow’r hast thou this pow’rful might</li>
    <li>With insufficiency my heart to sway,</li>
    <li>To make me give the lie to my true sight,</li>
    <li>And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?</li>
    <li class="number">Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,</li>
    <li>That in the very refuse of thy deeds</li>
    <li>There is such strength and warrantise of skill</li>
    <li>That in my mind thy worst all best exceeds?</li>
    <li>Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,</li>
    <li class="number">The more I hear and see just cause of hate?</li>
    <li>O, though I love what others do abhor,</li>
    <li>With others thou shouldst not abhor my state.</li>
    <li>If thy unworthiness rais’d love in me,</li>
    <li>More worthy I to be belov’d of thee.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 151</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Love is too young to know what conscience is,</li>
    <li>Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?</li>
    <li>Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,</li>
    <li>Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove:</li>
    <li class="number">For thou betraying me, I do betray</li>
    <li>My nobler part to my gross body’s treason;</li>
    <li>My soul doth tell my body that he may</li>
    <li>Triumph in love; flesh stays no farther reason,</li>
    <li>But rising at thy name doth point out thee</li>
    <li class="number">As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride,</li>
    <li>He is contented thy poor drudge to be,</li>
    <li>To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.</li>
    <li>No want of conscience hold it that I call</li>
    <li>Her “love” for whose dear love I rise and fall.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 152</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn,</li>
    <li>But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing;</li>
    <li>In act thy bed-vow broke, and new faith torn</li>
    <li>In vowing new hate after new love bearing.</li>
    <li class="number">But why of two oaths’ breach do I accuse thee,</li>
    <li>When I break twenty? I am perjur’d most,</li>
    <li>For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee,</li>
    <li>And all my honest faith in thee is lost;</li>
    <li>For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness,</li>
    <li class="number">Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy,</li>
    <li>And to enlighten thee gave eyes to blindness,</li>
    <li>Or made them swear against the thing they see;</li>
    <li>For I have sworn thee fair: more perjur’d eye,</li>
    <li>To swear against the truth so foul a lie!</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 153</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep;</li>
    <li>A maid of Dian’s this advantage found,</li>
    <li>And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep</li>
    <li>In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;</li>
    <li class="number">Which borrow’d from this holy fire of Love</li>
    <li>A dateless lively heat, still to endure,</li>
    <li>And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove</li>
    <li>Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.</li>
    <li>But at my mistress’ eye Love’s brand new fired,</li>
    <li class="number">The boy for trial needs would touch my breast;</li>
    <li>I sick withal the help of bath desired,</li>
    <li>And thither hied, a sad distemper’d guest;</li>
    <li>But found no cure: the bath for my help lies</li>
    <li>Where Cupid got new fire—my mistress’ eyes.</li>
</ol>
</section>

<section class="poem">
  <h2>Sonnet 154</h2>
  <ol>
    <li>The little Love-god, lying once asleep,</li>
    <li>Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,</li>
    <li>Whilst many nymphs that vow’d chaste life to keep</li>
    <li>Came tripping by, but in her maiden hand</li>
    <li class="number">The fairest votary took up that fire,</li>
    <li>Which many legions of true hearts had warm’d,</li>
    <li>And so the general of hot desire</li>
    <li>Was sleeping by a virgin hand disarm’d.</li>
    <li>This brand she quenched in a cool well by,</li>
    <li class="number">Which from Love’s fire took heat perpetual,</li>
    <li>Growing a bath and healthful remedy</li>
    <li>For men diseas’d, but I, my mistress’ thrall,</li>
    <li>Came there for cure, and this by that I prove:</li>
    <li>Love’s fire heats water, water cools not love.</li>
</ol>
</section>

